PREQUEL- The Birds Of Prey: Batgirl (Batman Fanfic)

Chapter 7: Testing my own limits

My eyes start to close involuntarily but I catch myself before I can properly fall asleep, forcing my eyes to stay open. Sitting in AP Math and trying to keep awake, between trying to find something for Ugly to eat whilst also trying to keep it quiet I wasn't able to get any sleep. When I looked in the mirror this morning  I almost screamed at the sight of my reflection, my face was basically purple which required copious amounts of makeup to cover up. My whole body hurts and I really wish that I could crawl into a hole and sleep for fifteen hours straight.

My teacher weaves between the rows of desks, handing our tests back that we did last week. I can't even remember what day of the week it is, let alone remember what work I'm doing at school. The piece of paper lands on my desk as Mr. Pierce walks by, a massive letter F written in the corner. By the looks at the paper, I had not answered most of the questions, no wonder I had failed miserably. Over the past few months, all of my grades had been gradually dropping, dropping to the point that now I am failing all my subjects.

The bell soon rang, signaling that the lesson was over and I have five minutes to head to my next lesson . I hadn' eaten anything today nor spoken to anyone, avoidance is my new middle name. I hadn't seen Dad, Alysia nor Richard and I realized that I was perfectly happy with that. 

I sluggishly pack up my bag and make to leave with everyone else but Mr. Pierce calls me to the front of the classroom.

"Just hang back a minute, Barb", I inwardly sigh, It's only 10:30 am and I feel like shit.

"Yeah?" I ask, running my hands over my eyes and then retracting them when I realize that I am probably wiping off ten layers of foundation.

Mr. Pierce moves over to close the door behind the last student and then walk back behind his desk to sit down, he gestures towards a chair opposite him.

"Have a seat" I do. "Are you okay?" He asks me.

Within a split second, I find myself answering "Yes" which has become my default answer to that annoying question.

"The truth Barbara," He says, looking over the brim of his glasses at me.

"Really I am fine, there's no need to ask so if that's all you have to say I'll be on my way" I make to stand up but he tsks me.

"Not so fast Barb. I only asked because I saw the news yesterday and the staff have been made well aware of your situation. However, I can speak for all of your teachers when we say that we are worried for you. You were a straight A student not three months ago now they've plummeted, you barely show up to lessons and even when you're here you're not really here at all. No one sees you in the cafeteria at lunch, you don't look like you're eating enough. You look like you need to sleep for about a week straight, you look really ill. The principle is going to be ringing your Father soon but I think that you deserved to be told first. So I'm going to ask you one more time, then you're free to go to your next lesson."

Ring my Dad? Shit.

"I'm just tired. I'm sure that this is just a thing  that I will get past soon enough. I'll try my best to get my grades back on track" I promise, even though I already know that there was no way that I would be able to pass any of my subjects.

Soon after that horrifying conversation ended, I find myself sitting in my next lesson, trying to work my way through a chemistry pop quiz. I drum the end of my pen on the table and glance to my right where Priscila Hawthorne was already on question twenty where as I had neglected to even write my name. 

I suddenly become very aware of every small sound in the room; the clock ticking away on the wall, the heavy breathing of Jeremy Clarke three rows back, the sounds of pens scratching at papers and fingers aggressively punching numbers into their calculators. My breathing picks up, an anxious feeling settles at the pit of my stomach making me feel sick, a pain stabs through my chest as I struggle to gulp down enough air and get very light headed and sick. Without thinking, I stuff my belonging into my bag and make towards the door.