Don't Save My Life

Chapter 5

(I know the formatting is insane so please excuse that. Also, this is not proofread so i am aware that there are plenty of mistakes. I'll come back and fix them. )

Willa

I realized my hands were shaking now as I played with the pendent on my neck, breathing in the crisp autumn air that seemed to catch in my throat. I leaned my head against the cool brick of the building trying to calm myself.

No one had said anything about Emmet Walter’s coming back to First Palmetto High, everyone had assumed he’d be homeschooled or sent to the elite private school in town. The last thing I ever expected was to be faced with seeing him again, let alone staring him right in the face.

I didn’t know what freaked me out more; that fact the guy whose life was ruined by my father, was sitting two desks down from me, or the fact that he looked at me, as if he recognized me. In those few sickening moments I’d panicked, aborting the class all together, and just barely running in to Mrs. Gregs on my way out.

I reached behind my neck, fumbling for the clasp on the back of my chain. It was stupid of me to even wear it; I didn’t know why I’d kept it after all that had happened. When the necklace was off I closed it in my palm, stuffing it in the pocket of my acid wash skinny jeans. Just this morning, I was admiring it in the mirror, now it was all I could not to toss it into the mud.

I could feel I was on the verge of a panic attack, a flood of repressed memories resurfacing in my mind now. Suddenly, I was glad for my mother forcing me to carry around a handbag; though it was more like a mini backpack just for girls. I reached into the back pocket of the faux leather bag and resurfaced with a small bottle of pills. My hands shook as I popped the lid off and let three small white capsules slip down my throat.

Next I recovered my old mp3 player and some headphones. Before long I was walking. I could hear the sound of my brown combat boots crunching on top of fallen leaves. The school was far behind me and the sound of Beethoven’s greatest compositions were blaring in my ears.

Before, I used to cope with heavy metal rock, screamo, underground rap, anything angry, and anything sad. But after a while I began seeing changes in myself that I didn’t like because of it. I told my therapist Todd about it, I hadn’t yet told him about the pills, but he suggested changing my music up.

Ever sense then I’d been focusing more on the music; the beat and rhythm than lyrics. That’s why old classical worked for me. It calmed me, and helped me think, but best of all, it took me away from the negativity that seemed to follow me wherever I went.

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“See, this isn’t so bad is it?” he asked, cramming a fry into his already inflated cheeks. If I hadn’t been so uncomfortable I would have told him how much he resembled a hamster right now.

“Are you done yet?” I whined, my eyes shifting around as people passed our table.

Ever sense my father had bombed that mall, killing all of those people, I hated being in crowded places.