It was in Science Class when it happened. Mr. Shropshire was standing in the front of the room, holding a ruler up to the marker-laden whiteboard. I was barely listening to what he had to say. I mean, it was almost 2 minutes before class would let out anyways. My elbow was pushed into my desk, my head leaning on it as my eyes watched my teacher's every move. His salt-and-peppered beard was swaying as he paced in front of the class, his shoes made loud clicking noises as they met with the tile floor.
"So, as you may know, our Final Exams are going to be held on Friday..." I kind-of tapped his voice out as soon as the word Exam hit my ears. My head shot straight up. EXAM! I hadn't been studying at all! My eyes bulged, but I tried to stay calm. My heart started to race a bit, but I took in a few deep breaths to slow it back down. "And this test will determine whether you will be having a Support Science class. But I must warn you, this test will contain most everything that you have learned throughout the year..." Bah-boom! Bah-boom! My heart dropped into the pits of my stomach. I would never pass, and I couldn't risk being held back. My parent's would kill me. Literally KILL me. My mouth felt very dry, and I couldn't feel anything. This was probably the worst Panic Attack I had ever had. My heart seemed to be beating outside of my chest, and my eyes felt hot. Suddenly, I could hear someone crying. It was horrible, the person was so depressed that I could feel sadness dripping from every word they said. I looked around the room, trying to find out who was crying, but no one was there. Was I going insane? No, this voice was definitely there, but where was it coming from?
(help me....mommy....my dolly broke my dolly broke....mommy.....)
It quietly filled my head. I could see some of my classmates hurrying over to me, hands touched my head and shoulders. I couldn't hear them though. The voice was too loud that it droned out everyone. The crying child....or at least I think it was a child....was joined by a chorus of others. Men, Women, Boys, Girls. They all sounded worried.
(Is she okay? Is she okay?)
(I can still feel her breathing she seems still)
(she looks tired)
(sleepy)
(what happened?)
They all poured into my head. What was happening? This had definitely never happened before. I could feel my hands hurting, probably from how hard I was clutching my desk. I could feel a watery substance start to from under them...
(blood blood blood blood)
I forced my eyes to close tightly, and the voices persisted. I started to scream. My throat burned with every ounce of pressure that I applied to it. My mouth was gaping, and my skin looked pale.
And then my Panic Attack ended, leaving the voices to pester me.
"Make it stop! Make it STOP! MAKE IT STOP!!" I cried, my voice hoarse. I could hear many people now, many voices echoed freely in my head.
Mr. Shropshire was leaning in front of me, a phone grasped in his wiry hands. His eyes were wide, and I could sense discomfort in the room. I was still screaming, and he started to shake me. His startled voice started to fill my ears.
"Mercy? Mercy stop! MERCY! Stop screaming!" The ferocity of this shaking caused my body to tremble slightly. His voice was far from comforting, but I tried to focus on it nonetheless. When I focused more on his voice, the others seemed to weaken. "Mercy? What happened?" I could feel my body trembling hard. My chair was still underneath me, which was a surprise. The air seemed to be trembling with me, and all I could think about were the voices. Voices. Voices.
"I don't know...." Then I recognized something. No one would believe me. Well, either that or they would think I was a creepy psychopath. I would have to lie my way out of this one. "I had a Panic Attack.....can I go home?" My voice seemed hasty, and my teacher's face looked a bit surprised. Weirded out. Scared.
"Yes...I think that would be best... students? Class is dismissed." I could see all of my classmates looking at me with a strange type of anxiousness. As if they were afraid of something.
(afraid of you of you of you)
I stood up, silently, wrapping my pale hands across the straps of my backpack. I pulled it up to sit on my shoulders. I wore a blank look upon my face, trying to pretend as if nothing had happened. My feet felt weak under my feet, like I was walking through water. I grabbed a wisp of my brown hair and brushed it in front of my face. No one could see me. The murmurs going through my head startled me.
(freak she's a freak)
(what did she do)
(did you see her eyes what a weirdo)
My eyes were already welling up, but they were now dripping with tears. I continued to walk towards the door, pulling on the brass handle to open it. I could hear a brief swish as the door flung outwards. I walked out of the door, aware of all of the looks I was getting as I walked silently down the hall.
When I finally arrived home, my parent's weren't there. Then I remembered. Dad was at work. Mom was going to the store in Concord. She wouldn't be back for another hour of so. I opened up our front door, and slammed it shut behind me. The soft, carpeted floors greeted my feet. They felt like a fluffy dog's fur, smooth, soft. I dropped my backpack, relieving my back of the pressure. My feet shuffled across the floor as I slipped my shoes off.
I walked over to the bathroom, looking into the giant mirror above the sink. My wild, brown hair was messily dropped over one of my eyes. My other eye, the more normal of the two, was a bright blue color. It was calming, like the ocean. I looked down at my hands, which were caked with dry blood. They felt slightly sore when I touched them to my face. I used one of my hands to brush the hair out of my eye, and the stringy brown mess moved behind my ear revealing my other eye. The one I wanted to hide all the time. In the center it was a bright green, but the colors transitioned to black. There was no white in this eye. Instead, the black continued to the skin of my eyelid. I cringed when I saw it, but let my hair remain behind my ear. I took in a deep breath as I took in my appearance again. I looked weird, strange. I could tell why no one liked me.
I reached my left hand forward towards the cold water nozzle. I pushed it outwards, creating a thin drizzled of clear water. I forced my hand to go under the water, despite the now stinging pain that reverberated from the cuts in my hands. I couldn't have grabbed the desk that hard.....could I?
I could hear my Mom opening the front door, and I could hear her gasps when she saw my physical state.
"What happened, Mercy? Are you okay?" She rambled on with utter fear, and I could see that her eyes were filled with worry.
"I'm fine Mom, just a bad Panic Attack. Mr. Shropshire sent me home..." My voice drifted off, and my eyes drifted down to stare at my feet.
"Well, this looks like a bit more than just a Panic Attack. Were those girls teasing you again?" I could feel her blue eyes start to bore holes in my head. I just sighed. I didn't say anything else. I started to walk away from the scene, making sure to drain the sink. I could feel Mom's voice running rampage in my head. Lots of questions that I couldn't answer.
And I travelled up the staircase, my feet slightly dragging against the carpeted floors. My eyes were still staring at my feet. I watched them dig into the tan carpet, making mini footprints like sand on a beach. As soon as I got upstairs and out of my Mom's view, I ran towards my only solitude in the entire house. My room. It was cram packed with books, and you could barely walk without stepping on one. I closed the door, and locked it, making sure that no one could see me cry. The many painful tears that I had been holding back from school drained from my eyes and floated down my cheeks. I could feel the tears travel in zig-zagged patterns across my face, which was starting to turn a bit red. I flopped down, head-first, onto my bed and cried like this. The voices mumbling in my ears.
One thing that entered my mind that day was something that had always taunted me, day-in and day-out.
"You are a freak freak freak and no one will ever like you because of that. You don't belong in this place and you never will."
YOU ARE READING
Telekinetic (Quicksilver)
FanfictionWhen her powers start to come in, Mercy Hemsworth doesn't know what to do. Her strange eyes are already scaring people off, and she has been bullied constantly. When her parent's decide to move out to the suburbs. A not-too-excited Mercy is forced t...