The Good, The Bad, and The Genius(ON HOLD)

Attack!

I came home that night at about 8:00 and warmed up last night's left overs: pot roast and mashed potatoes. The house was still empty, as usual, so I watched a bit of TV before showering and going to bed.

That night I dreamed of math theorems, Nobel Peace Prizes, erasable pens, and...Tanner Martin--but not like how you think. It was more of a nightmare than a dream. I dreamed that we had a calculus exam and we made a bet that whoever had the highest grade would make the loser have to admit to the class that they aren't the smartest. I expected to win, I just knew I had gotten one hundred percent, no questions asked. But apparently I skipped over one question, which counted as incorrect. I had hoped that Tanner missed one, but he got a perfect score. I remember grin that he flashed as I was about to admit my defeat. But thankfully, that's when I woke up, scared and drenched in sweat.

Now, as I hop into he shower, I think of ways I can avoid Tanner today. I can use the breezeways instead of walking through the packed commons. There's no way I can avoid him in calculus, but I can lock the door to the bookstore to keep him out. I'll just have to go straight there after school instead of going home first.

I got out of the shower after spending 5 minutes and an extra 32 seconds in there. I changed into my clothes and put my brown hair up in a messy bun in 6 minutes and 37 seconds, record time. I looked and stared at my light brown reflection in the mirror. I sighed, pushed my black rimmed glasses up and walked out of my room.

As I passed the bedroom across from mine, I heard loud snores. I snickered quietly at my mother and cursed her for agreeing to the new job schedule she received at work that kept her from being home. I miss her packing my lunch every night and reading me different Galaxy Conspiracies before tucking me into bed every night. But I guess it's time for me to be a big girl now. I am a Junior in high school.

I walked downstairs and ate some breakfast, since my alarm went off at the right time today, I still have time to eat more than a slice of toast. I popped two frozen waffles in the toaster, took out the maple syrup and then swallowed down my pills with some orange juice. (It's required by my doctor that I take Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor (SRI) once a day.)

I ate my heated waffles and drowned them in maple syrup, of course after I cut them up in little, equal squares. I looked at my watch and saw that I had 10 minutes and 25 seconds to make it to my bus stop, so I put my sweater on, got my backpack and headed out the door.

I walked to the bus stop in exactly 8 minutes and put my stuff down as I waited for the bus to arrive. I counted down each second, waiting for the bus to pull up next to me. But it didn't come.

I didn't panic...yet. I decided to wait two minutes before I made any assumptions.
I waited two minutes and then went into panic mode. I continued to count the seconds to try to calm myself down, but it did the exact opposite. It just made me more anxious. One second the bus still isn't here. Two seconds the bus still isn't here. Three seconds the bus still isn't here. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. I get to sixty and my mind automatically goes crazy and starts to assume the worst.

The bus got in an accident. Someone took the bus hostage. Someone on the bus held the bus driver at gunpoint. There was a flat tire. I'll have to walk to school. I might get hit by a car. Maybe the bus was held hostage because they were looking for me and then they find out I'm not on the bus and then they start searching for me and then they go to my school and hold them hostage and then start killing a hostage for every hour I'm not there and then I'm still laying on the street while they're doing this because I got hit by a car and so then everyone at my school ends up dead. What if what if what if.

I'm not breathing, I soon realize as I come back to reality. I can't--I can't remember how to breathe. I'm having an anxiety attack. Right here at my bus stop. And. I. Can't. Breathe.

I drop down to my knees and slide my palms on the hard, sea-shelled concreted, leaving scars and gashes but I feel nothing. I see nothing. I need to calm down.

I try to picture the calmest thing I can think of. I think of Dad. I envision my dad's voice in my head, "Calm down, sweetheart. Calm down, Daddy's right here, calm down." I see an image of his calm face smiling at me, with his bright, green eyes twinkling at me, telling me that everything's going to be okay.

I suck in a deep breath of air and begin to breathe again. I continue to stare at the ground, hearing those words echo in my mind.

"Calm down, sweetheart. Calm down, Daddy's here, calm down."

Yeahhh...that happened. This chapter was really short but I'll try to upload another one soon. So what'cha thinking so far? Good? 👍 Bad? 👎