Anxiety Alley

Willow [Chapter 2]

I, Llama_Luna, write my part at school just so you know.  Here is the first part of the story~

I stare in awe as the bus pulls into the school parking lot. I've never been to a high school, or a middle school, to be honest. People always made fun of me because of... my issues. I've been home schooled ever since second grade. The bigger people made fun of me because I'm small for my age. They mock me because I have ADHD, some of them had it, too. I also had really bad manic episodes, due to being manic depressive. The manic episodes were caused by stress, and trying to forget that I wasn't like all the other kids. The stress was caused by the teasing. Therefore, they suck. It was all their fault.

The driver glares at us and opens the door. "Get out, now!"

Everyone sluggishly walked out the door. I picked up my bag. I carried it everywhere with me. It held my notebook, which I write poems in. It also holds my phone, and house keys. I usually have my wallet in there, too. Right now, I have stashed some Oreos in with everything else. I love Oreos.

I walk up to the door. I don't go in just yet, I look inside first. This hallway is labeled the "K" hall that would mean... 11 HALLWAYS???????? How am I not going to get lost in there? I'll just follow someone... ask for directions... I don't know. Just hope that I- A HOOMAN HAS TOUCHED ME!! (A/N STOP MAKING FUN OF ME, I USUALLY TURN THE U INTO AN OO WHEN I SAY HUMAN)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I look up, knowing that the human would be taller than me, most are.

The girl I see appears  to be six foot something. I don't know. She grins down at me. "Are you new here? New to the school district? Been living under a bridge all your life?"

"Why would you think that? I- I di- idn't, didn't do anything! Yet. I- I'm completely normal!"

"Chill. I ride your bus, I saw you look at the school like it was an emo paradise."

"I... I- I am... so sorry. Can't say a certain letter. Keep stuttering when... dang. Can't. Sorry. So sorry you had to see that. Haven't been to a real... school, always homeschooling. Ha, not "normal" what is "normal"? I guess I will never know."

"Oh, gotcha. Well," she stuck her hand out. I shook it and smile. "I'm Clarissa. Clarissa Wheitland." (A/N pronounced as the words "Wheat" and "Land" but it has an "I" in it.)

"I'm Willow... Willow Graceson."

"What's your middle name? I think I might know you from the past. Maybe."

"Willow Abigail Graceson."

"YOU WERE THE GIRL WHO WAS BULLIED BULLIED BECAUSE OF-" I slapped a hand over her mouth.

I continued walking and I trip, I smash into another person. I blush.

"Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!" I ended up squeaking, at least I didn't stutter. That's a relief. he starts to reply but I am so glad that I didn't stutter, that I cut him off. "I didn't see you, I swear I'm not trying to decapitate you or something," I said, I take a deep breath. "Oh! I almost forgot, my name's Willow," I smiled. He stared at me open-mouthed, until I huffed and asked, "And you are?" I hate when people don't introduce themselves, sort of like a pet peeve for me.

"B-ben," He stutters and I think for a second, Is he like me? He blushes, too, "A-and I'm s-sorry too."

"Okay, Forgiven. Umm, sorry if I'm awkward but. . ." I lean toward him, "I used to be a homeschooler." I whisper this last part, so no one else can hear me. I look up, Clarissa is gone.

To give myself something to do, other than think of a way out of here, I look at him. 6 ft... maybe. WHAT IS WITH ALL OF THESE 6 FOOT GIANTS?? His pale blue eyes seem to be taking me in, like he just came from a desert and I am a glass of water. It makes me feel weird. I shift uncomfortably. I look at his hair, black, natural for him. His shirt is green and he has grayish blue jeans. His skin is a lightish brown, like mine. He could be Mexican. No. . . Native American, I think. 

The revving of the buses'  engines as they pulled out shattered our small moment. Over the cacophony of inane chatter, backpacks that bump into us and people mutter at us to move. This is so different, from homeschool. My brother and sister always got to go to public school and be ignored, my brother now plays football, and my sister is a cheerleader. Yuck. How am I related to them?

I give him a quick wave and start to turn away, to avoid people seeing my tics, I don't feel like being associated with Ticci Toby. He waves, I notice it in my peripheral.

I hear laughing behind me, I spin around to yell at them about making fun of me. someone points, not at me, but at another kid. I see a green shirt, Ben, people are watching him, laughing, pointing, talking about him. He's hyperventilating. I think  about making them stop. I don't, as long as they aren't laughing at me, I'm fine.

I start to walk away. I run back. I run right over to the crowd, trying to squeeze through they all disappear. He has his earbuds in, listening to music. Good coping method, I take out some rope and tie it into knots as I leave. I walk to my first class. My thoughts to him, Ben.