Secret Past

Chapter 1: freedom

I walked silently with my head down through the school. My firey red hair hung in my face. I needed to get out of the building before more kids came out of their classrooms.

My clastrophia is acting up quickly. I tried to destract myself with the thoughts of meadows and open surroundings. I dug through my bag looking for my iPod. I needed it ASAP. my breathing was becoming rapid.

Screw the iPod, I thought to myself. I need my inhaler.

My fingers just barely grazed the container when I hit something hard. My things flew out of my bag, and I fell backwards onto the ground. I looked up at the big boulder who knocked me down. Two guys from the football team stood over me dumb founded. My lungs were crying for air. I needed the inhaler. I searched the floor, moving things out of my way until I noticed it in the hands of the asshole who made me fall. I reached my hands out for it, trying to blink the tears back.

He tossed it at me, and my ability to catch is the worst, so of course it fell on the ground as I was standing for it. I quickly snatched it up and took long breathes. As soon as I calmed down, I hurriedly gathered my things trying not to make a bigger seen. One of the jocks bent down and helped pick up the scattered notes and pens. He stopped when he noticed my sketch book flipped open to a picture of a beautiful fairy sitting on a thrown. He flipped through the pages slowly until he noticed one looked like him, only in armor instead of his football uniform.

I could feel my face darken as I snatched it. "Thank you," I said before taking off down the hall, hoping I didn't leave anything. He'll probably think I have an obsession over him now. I shook my head as I rushed across the parking lot towards the woods. The only place I felt safe and free.

After walking a good fifteen minutes into the thick forest, I knew it was safe. I dropped my bag and slipped my shoes off. A small smile slipped onto my face. I broke into a run, letting the sun beat down on me and the wind rush past me. I felt free. My feet barely touched the ground, which gave me the feeling of flying. My smile grew. This was the only time I could be me.

After some time flew by, I went back to my bag, and grabbed my sketch pad and pencils before climbing into a tree. I opened it to the page the Jock saw of himself. A tune came humming out of my mouth as I began drawing his friend beside him. I stayed until I fell asleep to the tweeting birds