wake up.

I

Even in this dream state, I could still hear the harsh breaths emitting from me. I'm panting, sweating, possibly even crying. I don't know. I try to scream, but my mouth is left hanging open, not even a squeak. Just the echoing of my sharp intakes.
Please stop.
Please stop.
Please stop.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
STOP.
My eyes catch the light of my open window. I'm sitting up in bed, sweat indeed drenching my chest which is still heavily rising up and down. I gulp, my throat feeling dry and hoarse.
I wipe away my long dark strands from my eyes. I look up at the ceiling, not daring to close my eyes again. I count my breaths.
One. Two. Three.
I count again.
One. Two. Three.
And again.
One. Two. Three.
My door creaks open and my eyes dart over. I sigh. It's just my father. He's looking at me with a worried expression on his face. It's become so common that I don't question it. Why would I need to when I already know every night I fall asleep screaming.
"Ananka," he starts off, padding over and sitting on the bed of my bed. He pats my leg gently, which is still under the cover of my blanket. "Are you alright my sweet?"
I gulp again, the saliva sticking to the insides of my throat, not quite reaching where I want it to go. I nod hesitantly. He sighs, beginning to rub up and down my leg.
"Are you sure?"
My voice is croaky, but I speak up anyway.
"Yes dad, I'm sure."
A thin worry line creases over his forehead. Another common look. With tight lips, my father smiles, carefully standing up.
"Alright then. I won't be back until 6pm. Is that alright?"
My father works a tough job, though I don't know what it is. All I know is that he returns home with multiple worry lines, and he never arrives home unless it's past 5pm. But that's fine with me. I don't want him to worry about me. No one should.
"Yeah, that's alright." I reply, sliding my legs over the side of my bed. I look up from the floor and give him my best smile I can manage.
He walks over again, kissing my forehead and swiping the hair from my eyes.
"I love you." He murmurs, pressing another kiss on my temple. I smile slightly, though it doesn't reach my eyes.
"I love you too."
He walks back towards my door, pausing when he reaches the frame. He looks back at me, smiles, and says "You're going to be late for school."
I giggle slightly as he walks out the door and down the stairs. I only stop when I hear the familiar sound of the front door shutting. I sigh and look over at my uniform hanging on the frame of my wardrobe. Black spots appear in my vision. No.
I snatch my water bottle from beside me and down the rest of what was left. I shake my head, counting again.
One. Two. Three.
Breathe.
I look back again. The uniform is still hanging there, gently swaying in the wind that was let through my window. I realised I was holding my breath. I let it out. Breathe.
I stand up and walk over to my window, pushing it down until it closes. I shut the blinds as well before I swiftly change into my uniform. It was nothing special, like most school uniforms are. It consisted of a dark blue skirt with white accents, and a light blue dress-shirt that also had white accents.
I walk out the door, grasping my bag and shoving a chocolate bar, a packet of chips and a peanut butter sandwich into it. I zip up my bag and head for the door. My school was only a few blocks down from home, so I didn't have to walk too far.
I travel up the steps leading to the entrance. The school looks eerily empty today. I try to not let it get to my head. I don't think it's working. I looked around worriedly. No students. I look at the student centre. No office ladies. I look down the hallways starting up in front of me. And no teachers. It's eight o'clock. School opened twenty minutes ago. Why is there no one here? And if there isn't anyone here, why is the school open?
I know I'm starting to freak out when my palms rub slickly against each other. Breathe.
One. Two. Three.
Again.
One. Two. Three.
Pop!
I open my eyes. I had walked through the front doors. My eyes catch onto Zachary's in front of me. Of course it's him. I look down at my dress shakily. It's covered in sticky yellow paint. I look back up at Zachary and his goons, and his laughing. Laughing. Coughing. Crying with joy. I sigh, stuck in place. I can't move. What happened? How are there people here?
"What is going on here?"
I hear Ms. Stockland from down the hallway. Everyone is looking at me. I move. No. I run. I'm sprinting through the opposite hallway, twisting and turning around people who snicker and gasp at me. My vision's blurry. I can't tell if it's from tears or my heads stuffing up again. I'm gasping. I'm running out of breath. I cannot be caught by her. That stupid principal would never put any blame on Zachary Raminji. I'm not getting in trouble again. Not ever again. Certainly not today.
I must be crying. I have to be. My vision isn't this bad. I'm knocking into people who splutter back harsh words and insults. Though I don't hear them. Or feel them. The hallways all look the same, but they can't. I've just ran through this one. This is not right. What is wrong with me? No, these aren't tears. I have paint on my face, how can I tell? What is going on? Someone help me. Please. Please. PLEASE.
And then I'm falling. I can't feel the wind against my face. Somehow the paint must've dried. I see the bottom of the stairs. I can't put my arms out. There's no softening this fall. Maybe if I just let myself go. Why hold on anymore.
Then my head hits the floor.

***

I hear voices murmuring around me. No. Just one. I recognise this voice. Why am I here again this early?
I rub my face. It's clean. No more sticky paint. I sigh in relief, announcing my presence to the school nurse. Ms. Gordon.
"Ananka sweetie? Are you awake?"
I'm tempted to reply with I don't know, but that will only worry her. Like everybody else.
"I think so."
I finally see her kind, old face lean over me, ruining my sight of the ceiling above me.
"Excellent! You took quite a fall, Miss Tuffin." She exclaims, rushing over with a cold, wet cloth. "Put this on your forrid, it'll help cool you down. And try and get some rest while you're at it."
I blink my eyes open, shaking my head. No. I cannot fall asleep. No. No. No.
She places the cloth onto my forehead, gently pushing me back down. I'm too tired, too exhausted to fight back. No. No. No.
I'm falling asleep, I realise. I can hear Ms. Gordon's voice drone on. I can't pay attention.
"Don't worry Ananka, I've already notified your father about your..."
Everything falls black.