The next day was Monday, so Oscar had to go to school. When he was there, he sat down in the back of the class, as usual, and silently did his work. In math class, they were currently working in a unit based on fractions, how to multiply and divide them, greatest common factors, and least common multiples. In reading class, they were working with poetry, writing it, analyzing it, and finding figurative language, including similes, metaphors, alliterations, and idioms.
Even if the 5th grade work that Oscar had to do in school was challenging, and other students found it torturous, he still enjoyed it. Especially the math. After all, Oscar was exceptionally good at working with numbers. Something has to come out of looking at a circle with largely printed numbers from one to twelve.
Some would say that Oscar was weird for liking school. After all, most people would rather be at home. However, to Oscar, this was just another reason to be as shy as he was.
Today, however, he was distracted from his work. He didn't know why, it just... felt different. Like the world was moving slower than usual. It was weird, and, to Oscar, at least, disturbing. It sort of made sense why this would worry him so much. His entire life was built around the concept of time, after all. But, even saying that, it was very unusual for him to worry about something. He wasn't a nervous kind of person, he was just shy. There's a big difference between nervous and shy.
After school, on the bus, Oscar usually timed out how long it took for the bus to reach his stop. But yet again, he seemed to be distracted by nothing. The bus ride seemed longer than usual.
Though, when he got home, it was the same as always. He fed Charlie, climbed upstairs, and shut the door of his room without another word.
I mentioned previously that it was the same at home, though it wasn't. Silently, Oscar's mom crept downstairs to meet a surprise visitor, who wasn't just coming to see Oscar's mom, but Oscar himself. The one silently coming in through the front door wasn't just any old guest, but a therapist. The same therapist who Oscar's mom had called with the number, eight, three, two, one, nine, nine, zero, one, three, seven.
Oscar's mom had thought of everything to cheer her son up.
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Tick Tock
General FictionOscar Wright has always been an introvert, with only the steady ticking of the clocks keeping him company. With therapy doing no good to his low self-esteem and shy personality, he needs to find a way to stop his introvertedness - and it turns out...