the next step ; corrected.

one - james.

My heart is beating in my chest, loud and quickly as I run through the hallway. A glance at the clock that I'm running past tells me that it's 9:15; which means I still have 5 minutes left until it's too late and that class started 15 minutes ago. But I'd rather be late to class instead of going through the same embarrassment as i went through a few years ago.

My breathing is getting faster and faster. My thoughts are driving me insane. My feet are carrying me more and more quickly. I know what I'm doing is dangerous - but it needs to be done.

When I finally see the door that is opened already, I storm out and lean against the first wall I see - whilst trying to catch my breath. I slowly slide down the wall and close my eyes, trying to get my heart back to beating in a regular pattern. A few seconds pass and I take my phone out to check the time.

You would think it's terrifying to skip classes but it really isn't if you've done it ever since fifth grade on every single day of the week, always at the same time. It was only been scary the first few times I did it and now. Because today was the first time i ran into a teacher. All the other times I've been able to get it done smoothly. Today was different.

I was walking out of class, really calm just like all the other times. I knew nobody would notice that I'm missing anyways and I knew every teacher would be in class so I wouldn't be caught. The only thing I was focusing on was getting out of school, not really paying attention to what's happening to the right and to the left of me. Until i noticed a tall figure coming from a hallway on the right to get into the hallway I was in. Before i could realise what's happening, it was too late.

"Hey!" the man yelled. "Don't you have to be in class right now?"

My heart was suddenly beating twice as fast and immediately I started running, trying to get away as soon as I could. I still heard the man yelling behind me, saying stuff like he'd tell the principal about this and that I would face consequences but I didn't listen. I just kept running and running until i ended up here.

The clock tells me it's 9:20 which means it's time to take my pill. My hands are shaking when i take the package out of the back pocket of my jeans. I turn it around in my hands, reading the back of it.

'Prozac (Antidepressant)
Commonly prescribed for anger issues. This drug does not specifically target anger within the body, but it does have a calming effect that can support control of rage and negative emotion.' It says and I oppress the demand to throw it against the wall in front of me. Just write down that I'm insane, it won't make a difference.

I slowly open the package and pour three of the tablets in the inside of my left hand before throwing them into my mouth quickly and breathing out, relieved that it's finally done. The feeling of the pills going down my throat was a very familiar feeling. It wasn't the best feeling but not being in control of your anger was definitely worse. The guilt of knowing you have hurt someone is worse. People fearing you is worse.

The reason why this feeling is so familiar is because I'm used to it. I'm used to taking these pills ever since 5th grade. I'm used to the feeling of not being able to control my actions. I've been taught that violence is the only way to deal with anger and that anger is the only emotion you're supposed to feel.

It all started when i was 7 years old already. I remember how I came home from school with my first bad mark, a C in maths. For a lot of people a C isn't that bad, especially in primary school but for me it was. I was the oldest of 3 children, I was supposed to be an idol to my younger sisters. I worked hard and I was always told that only nothing but the best was good enough. Why would i be satisfied with anything worse that the best?

So when I came home from school I was a little scared. I knew my dad would react worse than my mom because he was always the rougher one. He would get angry really easily and place a lot of value on good marks in school. When I opened the door only he was sitting on the couch with a newspaper in his hands, not even bothering to look up when I came in.

"Hey dad, is mom home?" I asked nervously, hiding the test behind my back .

"No," he grumbled. "She's picking Piper and Nat up from kindergarten. Why?"

Then he looked up curiously and I immediately felt 5 feet smaller. When he saw that I was hiding something behind my back , my heart started beating faster.

"Show me what's behind your back," he ordered and I resistantly obeyed, holding the paper in front of my body now and walking towards him in little steps.

Once i was in reaching distance he harshly pulled the paper out of my hands and looked over it until his eyes stopped at the mark. The room was silent. Which terrified me.

"A C?," he said with his loud, powerful voice. "Just a C? Is this all you can do? Are you really this dumb?"

I could smell the alcohol. I remained quiet , knowing that whatever I'd say would just make everything worse. I stood right in front of him as he stood up, now being even taller and intimidating me even more.

Then I got to feel the first punch. The very first punch my father ever gave me. It hurt. Not the punch itself, my body was numb in that moment. The fact that my own father hated me so much that he slapped me, that was what hurt so much.

But what hurt the most is that that was just the beginning of everything. Blurry memories of all the sleepless nights I had because the memory kept me awake or my dad was yelling downstairs . All the times I decided to get out of bed to go downstairs and to defend my sisters. All the other times his hand would meet a part of my body and leave bruises on it.

Today it's over. Well, almost over. Because it never will be competely, even though my father is in rehab and has been for a while.

Because my mom is still there and that's why it will never be over. She did get hurt by her husband a lot too, emotionally and physically. She always loved him and always will, more than she will ever love me or any of my three sisters. My Mom never stopped placing a lot of value on good marks and pressuring me a lot and still does it till this day.

Since I had been exposed to violence basically my whole life ; all that pressure didn't exactly help me and that's how my anger issues started. When my dad got into rehab the youth welfare service thought it was a good idea to check how the rest of the family is doing and soon i was diagnosed with anger issues in 5th grade.

I had to see a therapist but that didn't help a tiny bit since i wouldn't talk so i got told to search a distraction and i got prescribed these pills i take every day at 9:20 ever since that day.

The only problem is that 9:20 is in the middle of the maths lesson. I could of course take them in class but I did once and was the most humiliating thing I've ever been through. The thought of that day sends shivers down my back. I remember all the insults so clearly. 'weirdo' is still the most harmless one.

So I started to skip classes. Every day during the maths lesson, just to take these pills. Although that lead to another problem. Maths.

Maths always wasn't my strongest subject, but I always managed to pass it when I payed attention to the teacher and studied a lot. Now, I barely attend class so that I can take my pills - which resuts in me slowly but surely failing.

You see, it's a never ending circle. I need to skip classes to take my pills which leads to me failing maths which leads to my anger issues getting worse which leads to me having to skip maths to take my pills.

The only other thing that makes my anger get better is dance, but my mom told me that if my maths grades don't get better I'll have to give that up too and that makes everything even worse. I don't know how I could survive without dance. I don't know how I could survive without my pills.

Before I can think any longer, the bell rings .I sigh as I take my bag, put on a smile and walk into the school where I pretend I just ditched classes because I don't like maths, just like every other day.

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thank you to @rileylovesjames on instagram for writing this awesome chapter in the mind of james :)
read the intro chapter if you are interested in participating in writing a chap.
characters that are taken are;
- james (obvi)
- piper
- richelle
- chloe (tbc)
- emily (tbc)
- daniel
again a big thanks to mona I hope you all enjoy! please vote & comment for more!