creative writting stories

Unhealthy (story 4)

Unhealthy

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

My pencil pounded furiously on my desk, their eyes like red hot pokers digging deeper, and deeper into my skin, my cheeks blush red as they giggle, there talking about me.  My foot starts taping along with my pencil.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap t-

“Charlotte” Ms. Smith yelled “Enough with the tapping.”

“Sorry” I mumble as I stop tapping with my pencil, but my fingers keep on going. She sighs but continues with her lesson.

As she talked about Romeo and Juliet my thoughts drifted to the test I had in chemistry tomorrow.

“I’m going to fail” I thought.

My thoughts started to race

When I take the test I will get a D, when I get a d I will fail the class, when I fail the class I will have to re-take it, then I won’t be able to graduate, when I can’t graduate I won’t get a job.

My heart is pounding, I start hyperventilating.

No job, no money, no money no food, when I have to food I will die.

My pencil was tapping again,

“Charlotte, I said enough!” Ms. Smith said frustrated.

“I’ll stop” I replied.

Finally after what seemed like countless hours, the last bell rang, dismissing me to my non-existent life. I slowly got my stuff and tried to remain invisible to the rest of the class, as I walk out the door I am met by a sea of students, I hated the hallways for this reason, to many people. I squeezed against the wall trying to cause as little attention as possible. I felt them looking at me and they laughed, was it my frizzy red hair that caused them to hate me, or the clothes I wore, or maybe the color of my eyes, dark green.

They quickly pass and I am free to go to my locker and grab my books for the assignments I was given tonight, taking more than enough time. I walked to my car in the nearly empty parking lot and tried to calm myself down. I look around from the front seat and make sure everything is in order, nothing missing, no tickets.

I pull out of my parking spot and start the short drive home. My heart starts beat faster, Did I foregut something, what if I did? What if I forget how to do the math assigned? What if he says no? What if my dad doesn’t get a job? What if? What if? What if?

By the time I’m in the drive way I am almost in tears by the amount of stress I am carrying. I open the door to my small house and go up to my even smaller room.

Almost instantly I start freaking out again my thoughts racing.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

My pencil starts taping on the table.

I’m not going to pass.

I’m going to fail.

My teacher has it out for me; everyone has it out for me.

I’m not good enough, not smart enough to do anything.

I don’t get anything.

The more I let it go on the more distorted they got.

I’m not loved.

Nothing is going to help.

My parents hate me.

I’m a failure.

Until, unfortunately, I can’t take it anymore. I need to do it, need the sweet release only it can give. I need to do it. I can’t do anything without it.

I open the bottom drawer and rummage through it until I find I single razor.