Saving Emily

02

If only I knew who he really was, I would have taken the matter straight to the authorities. From the moment he triggered my anxiety at the library, I would have called the cops instead of Noah.

Everything was already hard for me from the beginning because of my mental problems regarding my constant and usually meaningless fears. I hated admitting things that were uselessly worrying me to the people close to me, who would, without a doubt, help me overcome them in a heartbeat. Never had I wanted to be such a burden to them. I just took his strange and weird appearances in my everyday life as a result of overthinking. I knew I was already having problems with my mental health, so I thought it was just my paranoia toying with me and didn't give it much thought.

He wouldn't have creeped me the hell out before if he didn't remind me, for just a split second, of my horrible past. If he reminded me of that, it only meant one thing–he was dangerous. I should have trusted my inner guts. For once, I shouldn't have doubted what my mind told me. It never hurt to rely on them all the time, after all. But there would be no taking backs now.

However, I was afraid.

It had been three weeks since the first time I saw him in the public library. In fact, school had already started the last week. Every once in a while, I would be reminded of his eerie and creepy grin, and I would always shiver at the mere thought of it. I started to focus my mind on things that would let me dive deep into another and surreal world, where my deepest fantasies were. So I could take my mind off of things that would undoubtedly destroy it. I relented on taking my pills regularly instead of skipping the schedule, to add bigger help, but doing it only lasted for two days. Those medicines were really fucking me up and I never allowed them to do that to me so I discontinued taking them, unless Dad was there and asked me to swallow a pill in front of him.

As luck was on my side, Noah didn't ask me anything about the attack I had at the library. He was used to me having it from time to time without any particular reasons, so it seemed normal to him.

Then a crumpled paper hit the back of my head. I looked over my shoulder with a surprised and frightened look, just to see Noah making faces at me. For a moment, I didn't know how to respond. If it was just him and me, I would've raised my middle finger in his face without hesitations. But people were all around us, we were in our Math class. What if they saw me do that? What would they think of me, talk about me behind my back?

Finally I decided to just get through with it smoothly, because I really wanted to give Noah his ultimate prize. Just be quick, I reminded myself, so no one else would notice.

I gave him the finger subtly by pretending to scratch the space between my brows with it so he laughed without a sound, earning weird and annoyed gazes from our classmates. Panic started to creep in. That was what I was worrying about. Other people noticing. Noah noticed our classmates giving us disgusted looks so he raised two of his middle fingers, making sure our teacher had his back on us, to make them leave us alone. And they did. With irritation.

As weird as it was, it certainly calmed me for the moment. Later that day, I was pretty sure I would still end up thinking of what happened in that classroom before I go to sleep.

Basically, Noah was my only friend. I was an outcast and an introvert who always hung out with books, and of course, Noah. I don't know, but I conveniently shut myself out of other people's lives since the day my parents filed for divorce. I had always lived inside my shell. Social problems, I know. My psychiatrist, Dr. Gallagher, said it had something to do with my past, with what I had been through, and it could be related to avoidant personality disorder. I have no idea what that exactly is, but it's somewhat self-explanatory so I guess that's what I was really going through. I had become distant from people around me not because I felt too damaged and didn't trust them, but because the experiences themselves made me hold back. Like, everything had been hard for me, and there was no denying that, and I knew I needed a break from people and everything. I had never been comfortable before, so when I found the so-called comfort zone, I never wanted to get out of it.