Scomiche One-Shot things...

Public Speaking pt. 1

Unedited!!!!!

Trigger warnings: Bullying, panic attack/anxiety attack

Mitch POV:

I sat in homeroom. I was the only one in here, as the bell still had yet to ring. I hated school, which is pretty common amongst teenagers, but what I hated more than any average day of school was the first day of school. I pulled out my phone and opened up the doodle-jump app. I sucked at this game, but it would distract me until the day actually began.

Students began filing in to the classroom. I sighed. Seven more hours until I could go home. The bell rang, startling me, and I slipped my phone into my jean pockets. I sat in the back row, alone. I guess there weren't enough students to fill up all of the seats, not that I minded being alone.

The teacher soon began to call attendance.

"Sarah Fletcher."

A short, curly-haired girl spoke up in the front of the classroom. "Here!" she said, happily. I'm sure I rolled my eyes subconsciously.

The roll continued until he reached my name.

"Mitchell Grassi."

I raised my hand.

"Mitchell Grassi!"

Again, I raised my hand. The teacher looked up.

"Mr. Grassi, please speak up when I call your name." He said sternly.

"Hhhh-h-h...h-here." I said, cringing. The teacher finished calling out the attendance, and then began to pass out our schedules.

He finally reached my desk, and placed a piece of paper on my desk. I flipped it over, and began to read.

Period 1: English and Composition

Room 147

Mr. Emerson

Period 2: Biology

Room 231

Mrs. Carson

Period 3: World History III

Room 135

Ms. Cote

Period 4: Public Speaking

Room 116

Mr. Hill

No. No...fuck! There has to be some mistake! I thought.

As soon as the bell signaled to head to our first period class, I made a beeline to the main office. There was already a line of students forming, waiting to change classes, or to drop out of a certain course, so I waited in back. After five minutes, I made my way to the front.

"Name please?" The secretary asked.

"M-mitch-chell G-gr-grassi." I answered as best as I could, but must have still sounded fairly stupid, as the lady rolled her eyes.

"What class would you like to change?" She slurred, obviously very tired at 7:45 on a Tuesday morning.

"Um...I-I w-w-was put int-to p-p...public speak-king class...a-and I can't-t take th-that cl-class...I h-h-have a...speech i-impedi-impediment." I struggled on every word. I knew what I wanted to say, but it was as if the nerve connecting my brain to my mouth was shot, leaving me unable to form a single word.

The lady typed something into her computer, and then sighed.

"Sorry Mr. Grassi, but there's nothing I can do for you. Your parents requested you be put into this course, in hopes that it would help with your stutter. I wish there was something I could do, but maybe this would be beneficial for you."