𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 (EDITING)

𝟐𝟑

emerson

I shivered involuntarily as a chill swept through my room, a reminder that the morning had a bite to it. Hastily, I pulled on my jumper and scanned the room—empty bookshelves begged for a literary revival, while my desk lay obscured beneath an array of scattered stationery in need of organization. My school uniform hung with a sense of readiness on the door, a straightforward attire of gray trousers, a basic white shirt, a matching jumper, and a blazer emblazoned with the school's emblem.

Despite the routine appearance of the uniform, I couldn't shake the wave of apprehension washing over me. School was familiar territory, yet the years that had slipped by since I last attended made it feel like uncharted territory. It was the middle of April, and the thought of reentering the realm of education after such a prolonged hiatus weighed heavily on my mind. The experiences I'd missed loomed large in my thoughts, taunting me with the inevitable gaps in my knowledge and understanding.

The sudden opening of my door brought me out of my reverie, and I turned to see Florence standing there. "Good morning," she greeted me, stepping into my room, her presence comforting. "Hi," I mumbled, feeling a mixture of gratitude and unease at her entrance. "How did you sleep?" she inquired, concern etched on her face. I shrugged, "Okayish, it was quite cold," I confessed truthfully. Her understanding nod communicated volumes. "I'll leave you be, breakfast will be ready downstairs," she informed me before stepping out, leaving the door ajar.

The mention of breakfast triggered a pang of anxiety in my stomach. Eating had become an uncomfortable task, a challenge I grappled with daily. I could manage only a few bites, and even then, only in the presence of Florence. The thought of sitting down to a meal with others made my stomach churn with nervousness. But there was comfort in knowing that Florence understood—a silent support.

I rose from the bed with a determined resolve and made my way into the bathroom, clutching my school uniform. A sigh escaped me as I splashed water on my face, attempting to shake off the remnants of sleep clinging to me.

I slipped into my uniform, and arranged my hair into an arrangement that combined both elegance and practicality—a half-up, half-down style secured with a black bow. A touch of lip-liner added color to my lips, and I applied some lip balm for hydration. I took a moment to curl my lashes, a small detail that felt oddly comforting in the midst of change.

I neatly arranged my pencil case and notebook in my bag, curious about the prospect of acquiring school books. Slipping on my shoes, I grabbed a book from my cluttered desk and held onto it as I made my way downstairs, ensuring not to forget my coat.

"Morning," I greeted softly, biting into a strawberry as I entered the kitchen. Hailee greeted me back, inquiring if I was excited. I couldn't muster much enthusiasm. "No, not really," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. "Starting school after so long, in the middle of April—it's a bit strange." i mumbled, "Don't stress, it's going to be good." Florence reassured me, placing a bowl of fruit in front of us. I managed a smile, expressing my uncertainty about how things would go. Breaking my pancake into smaller pieces, I nibbled on a small portion, feeling a mix of nervousness and curiosity about the day ahead.

I could barely manage to consume half a pancake before a wave of nausea hit me. I swallowed hard, feeling a pang of guilt for not finishing. "I'm sorry, I can't eat more," I murmured, swiftly popping a piece of gum into my mouth to mask the unsettling sensation. Florence's understanding nod gave me some relief as she cleared the table. Gathering my belongings, I made my way towards the front door.