Anxiety

1 - Cleo

For so long I had been okay. It had been at least a month and a half since I had felt it begin to take hold, rooting itself in my brain. Six weeks of peacefulness and quiet. No what-ifs. No well-maybes. Nothing but calm. 

I still had a couple weeks before school began again. But I had run out of time before the bitter old friend of mine returned. I had run out of time before Anxiety prodded me, poked me, pushed me. 

It had to have been the start of August that brought it back again. With August comes a sad reminder of time slipping away. Of school creeping nearer. It's a month all students dread. I tend to dread it more so than others because it seems I am the only one who suffers at the hand of Anxiety. 

But now reality, Life itself tugs at my sleeve, inviting me into a cold embrace. I want nothing more than to reject it and live in my room forever, reading one book after another and escaping into each book's fantastic world where everything works out in the end. But the world doesn't work like that and everything comes to an end. Especially summer. 

As I wake from my Anxiety Doldrums, I am reminded of what a cold place this world is, even in the sweltering heat of summer. 

*   *   *

I sit on my bed curled in a corner near the wall clutching a book with white knuckles. I had been reading it for the fifth time this summer. It's one of my favorites and it has always calmed me down before. But tonight it is nothing but a stack of paper, a mere collection of words. 

It normally pulls me in and makes me forget reality, but tonight nothing can block the thought of the First Day of School, which takes place tomorrow, at eight o'clock sharp. 

I do my best to reassure myself tomorrow will not, in fact, be the end of the world. But Anxiety, the devil on my shoulder, has plenty of reasons why I should fear tomorrow and everything that it will bring. it has an endless list of things that could go wrong, things that could be bad, things I should worry about: teachers, students, classes, hallways, locker combinations, seating arrangements, homework, reports--oral reports. 

"One can never know," Anxiety whispers, "what the First Day will bring."

 That's true, I answer, but what if it brings-- 

"Sadness?"

No, but it could brin--

"Embarrassment?"

I was going to say--

"A great many mistakes on your part, making everyone laugh at you and causing you to be a social pariah?" 

Anything other than that, actually. 

"Well then, what kind of perfect movie screen high school are you going to?" 

I didn't answer it. I didn't want to. there was no use to it anyway. It always knew just what to say to throw logic and reason right out the window. It almost didn't matter what I told myself because Anxiety always had a comeback. It always had an answer. It always had something. It was the incredible persistence of Anxiety. 

*   *   * 

I slipped into a pair of my black skinny jeans and buttoned a blouse. I ran a brush through my hair. I put on my shoes and ate an apple as I checked a doubled checked that I had everything in my backpack. I double checked and that my window was locked and that my dad hadn't left the stove on when he made pancakes for my brother this morning. I tossed the apple core in the compost bin and brushed my teeth. I grabbed by backpack and headed out the door. I locked the door and re-locked it to make sure. I wanted this day to be perfect. A break-in certainly wouldn't make it perfect. 

I climbed in the car with my brother and Dad started the engine. 

"So did you lock the door?" he asked me humorously, having seen me lock it twice. 

"I think so," I replied, now unsure. 

My dad rolled his eyes. "You know you did," he assured. 

"No, I know that... it's just... what if I didn't?" I whispered, biting the inside of my cheek. 

"I don't want to be late," my brother said from beside me. 

And off we went. 

First, second, and third period all went fairly well. It was a routine of rules, get-to-know-you worksheets for the teacher, and minimal amounts of homework. And then there was lunch. I found my singular friend, Devi, and we ate while she told me all about her trip to New York. 

The bell rang and along came fifth period. English. 

When everyone was seated, the teacher, Ms. Ballocks, announced, "Instead of a name game, a worksheet, or a name tag, you will, in three days time, be giving a presentation about yourself to the class." And she passed out the instruction sheet. 

Everyone around me groaned, as expected, but I just sat there in silence. 

After the being abruptly thrust back into reality, I certainly wasn't prepared for this. Quite frankly, it didn't matter at all how long I had been reality or not, I was never prepared for this. 

I wiggled my toes and rubbed my fingers together. I took deep breaths and closed my eyes. 

Not right now, I told myself. 

The girl in front of me turned to her friend, "I am literally going to die." 

Took the words right out of my mouth. 

"Quiet down everyone. Now, as it says on the directions, it should be at least two minutes long, but no more than three. Don't forget to mention any bullet on there or you will e marked down," said the teacher, peering at us all from over her glasses. 

It didn't take long for us to shut up. Her glare was sharper than a shard of broken glass. This teacher was all-business, no fun. We should have known from her pencil skirt, blazer, and professional-looking up-do. As she walked back to her desk, her heels click-clacked on the floor and I was the only one watching in shock. I guess I didn't get the memo on this teacher. 

*   *   * 

Devi: No one told you about Ballocks? 

Me: No. 

Devi: My brother warned me. I should have told you. 

Me: You were in NY all summer. 

Devi: Still. 

Me: It's fine. I'll live. 

Devi: You'd better. 

I set my phone aside and stared at the presentation directions. There was a good amount of stuff on here to discuss. Hobbies, interests, work aspirations, favorite piece of literature and why, and one thing about ourselves that not many people know. 

Well, if she wanted us to spill our souls to her why didn't she just say so. 

I set the project aside and did the rest of my homework. I packed my backpack very precisely and crawled into bed where Worry enveloped me like a blanket. After such a long day I was exhausted and it felt so nice to lay in bed, screwing around on the internet. 

*A/N Hello and thank you for reading! Sorry for the long wait with the second chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it, though! Again, thank you so much for reading! Love Always, Carleigh 

P.S. If I made any typos please forgive me I suck at editing.