Tragedy Ever After

Don't Touch Me

        ~Normal POV~

     The walk to school was shorter than I remembered. Maybe it's because I was in a good mood. "Y/n!" a voice called for me and I spun around.

     "Dale?" I raised a brow at the male. We never spoke before, why was he trying to talk to me now? "What's up?" I asked cautiously. He stepped closer with a kind grin.

     "I saw you take off the other day after you had a fight with April," I peered up at him. "I wanted to check on you then, but. . . it didn't seem like a good time."

     "Well, I'm fine, no worries," I backed away from the male. "I need to get to class now," I spun on my heel only to have my wrist grabbed. I hated the sudden contact, especially from someone I wasn't close with.

     "Don't touch me," I ripped my hand from his grasp and held it close to my chest. My heart was pounding and I was breathing quickly. "Don't, don't, don't," I began muttering and trying to calm myself.

     Dale stared at me like I was crazy, or like he wasn't expecting that sort of reaction. He took a step away from me with wide eyes. "Y/n, I didn't mean to--"

     "No, no, no," I moved further away. My vision blurred and I felt my face flush. I didn't want to have another episode in front of someone. I wished Don was here, I wanted to hide. I tried to silence my muttering while Dale kept his eyes on me.

     I took off for my classroom, even through my embarrassment, I didn't want to be late again and feel everyone's eyes on me. I hated it. I felt like everyone was staring at me and laughing at me. I took a seat at the back of the classroom and buried my face into my arms.

     I tried my best to calm myself down while trying to avoid being stared at. There were already a few kids in the class, so I felt like a weirdo already. I felt like I was going to be sick. Why did I have to be different? Why couldn't I just be normal?

     I sat up and wrapped my arms around myself in some type of hug. I watched Mr. Ward walk into the classroom and look over us to check if everyone was here. His eyes landed on me and I curled in a bit to try and make myself smaller.

     "Y/n," he walked over and handed the test back upside down. No, no, please, anything but that. "We need to speak after class," I flushed again as I felt like everyone was looking. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

     I looked over the test and how much I got wrong. I was so confident in all my answers, how did I fail? My vision blurred again. I wanted to go home. I itched at my arm unconsciously, not being able to pay attention to the lecture at all. I was dreading the discussion Mr. Ward would have with me when the lesson was over.

     "Y/n," I tensed and walked to the front of the class, clutching onto my bag tightly as I refused to meet eyes with the Professor. "Your grades are slipping. Is there something going on at home?" did teachers normally ask that? I didn't know.

     "It's nothing," I kept my gaze focused on the ground. "It's my own fault my grades are suffering. I promise I'll do better next time."

     "You're a good kid," my teacher sat down in his swivel chair. "I'd hate for you to be suffering silently. Do you need me to set up an appointment with our counselor? She's very understanding."

     "No," I immediately brushed the idea away. "I can't adjust my schedule," I shook my head.

     "Okay," Mr. Ward sighed. "I'll waive this test for you, only because I know you're a bright student. I know you can do better than this. I won't do this again," he said in a stern voice and I nodded at his words. "Just, let me know if you change your mind about wanting to meet with the counselor and I can set it up. You can go."

     I rushed out of the classroom the minute he said that. I felt like I couldn't breathe while he spoke to me. I was a failure. Don lied. Liar, liar, liar. I felt my fists clench and unclench as my thoughts screamed at me.

     I took my time walking home, scared of being confronted when I got back. I kept rubbing at my eyes, not enjoying the warm tears that decided to stream down my face. I wanted to go hide under my covers and never come back out. When I reentered the apartment, there was no Donatello in the living room to greet me, but I could hear the faint humming of the drill in his room.

     I tiptoed past the turtle's room and into mine, closing the door silently and burrowing into my bed. I pulled my blanket completely over my body to hide from the world. I wanted to stay like this forever. Don could never like a failure like myself.

     Word Count: 872. Random fact, I looked up to see a Markiplier video and the game was called 'Good Boy.' I think these chapters are coming out a little better, enjoy!