Scars (An Amourshipping Story)

'Messed-Up...'

My morning alarm goes off, and I flail about uselessly for a while until I remember that I'd decided to give morning runs another shot.

I don't know if this was my greatest idea, but I'm determined to keep going.

This is about my health, after all.

Sure, things haven't been great lately for me, but that hasn't made existence so intolerable that I'm not going to try everything I can to stay healthy.

Besides, it'a ll about asserting some kid of control over this thing, right?

If I can mange that, well, I can manage anything.

At least that's what I keep telling myself.

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After the run, back in my room, the first thing I see is the familiar row of medication bottles lined up on top of my dresser, and it makes me depressed, as usual.

It's annoying. I thought I was okay. I thought I had made peace with this thing, gotten over it.

But what I really did... I allowed myself to forget that I have a problem. Being here really reminds me of the reality, and trying to fight against it just hurts.

Reflecting on it is only going to do so much. I've done this before, for months. It seems like it's time to get over it.

If I allow myself to forget that my life is definitely not going to be as long as those of other, I won't get anywhere.

My life may be different from others. But it is a life in progress.

That is how I'll rationalize it.

I down the usual handful of pills, trying to push the sudden dreary feeling out of my head. Then I shower along with brushing my teeth, then I prepare to head out to class early, as usual.

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For a change, I'm not among the first ones to come to morning class.

Instead, almost everyone else seems to be here already. I recognize most of my class by their faces by now, though the names escape me still.

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The class goes on lazily. I think I'm starting to get into the rhythm of the school.

I have even stopped worrying about taking notes and being overtly attentive. The first days, I was pretty high-strung in class.

Sycamore finishes his lecture about electricity early, but continues without a pause about the festival.

"So, as you know, the festival is on the day after tomorrow. I hope everyone's projects are going to be successful this year." Sycamore says.

"Have a good time, but also come Sunday, please keep the meaning of this festival in your minds...." He adds on.

"Games and fried food!" May shouts out.

Everyone bursts out in laughter, and so do I.

"Yes, thank you, May." Sycamore chuckles slightly.

The lunch bells ring and everyone starts packing their things.

Sycamore deliberates for a moment, but since almost nobody seems to pay attention anymore, he gives up and sits down.

It's crowded in the hallway...or crowded as hallways in this school probably get. Most of the students seem to be heading down for the cafeteria.