Anamnesis

two

1,176

        My hands gripped the steering wheel of my 7-year-old Scion tC, knuckles quickly turning white from the pressure.
        Students and teachers alike passed in front of the car, blind to my existence. Groups quickly began to form outside the doors, cliques drawn together as if they had known each other all their lives, instead of a few hours.

        I took a long drag of a cigarette, the heat burning the inside of my lips as smoke passed between them. I looked back in my rearview mirror, taking comfort in the familiarity of my own features.
        I took in the dark green-blue of my eyes, bloodshot from the smoke. They were hooded, like my dad's; framed by dark eyebrows, and short lashes.
        My hair was thick, and unruly. Smelling of smoke and the cheap cologne I used to cover it up. It curled near the ends, bangs falling into my eyes if I didn't have them pushed back. I took in the upturn of my nose and my long, thin cheekbones; gaunt with the bags forming from lack of sleep.
        I had a single piercing, a pair of ash grey studs, punctured through the skin above my right brow.

        I dragged my hand up over my face, slapping some color into my pale skin. I grabbed my backpack from the passenger seat, throwing it over my shoulder. The door of my car was slammed shut, stuffing the keys into my pocket.
I snuffed out the embers from my cigarette, the first bell ringing throughout the parking lot. The area was now empty, any remaining stragglers running towards the building to get to class on time.
~

"Johanna Logan"

I slipped into my seat a few minutes later, successfully avoiding the glares of my classmates. Mrs.Brimms' cloudy brown eyes were surveying the room, unfamiliar faces meeting, to some, her unfamiliar eyes.

The girl, Johanna, was raising her hand confidently, the roll call nothing more than a mix of both muscle memory and a casual glance down to their supplies.
Each student was counting, their names coming third or eighth in the list. Or like Johanna, they simply scrawled their names across their supplies; stark, grey lead helping them to not forget.

"Adrian Lynnwood"
    I raised my hand, leaning back into my seat. It was the same, old routine.
I had grown used to my classes, the lesson plans dictating every single hour. Reading and rereading the same government-issued books in every class, every single day.

"Tyler McCloud"
    I mentally groaned, Tyler had stopped showing up a few weeks ago. If he had died, no one knew. If he had run away, no one remembered. The only reason Brimms still decided to read his name off was because it was written on the sheet. All I knew was that Tyler was gone, his disappearance nothing more than a mistake of the system.

"Tyler." She repeated "Is there a Tyler here?"

"Tyler left, lucky bastard"
    I mumbled under my breath, the boy seated in front of me turning slightly to meet my gaze. His face was traced with freckles, small, deep set brown eyes, with a cock-eyed smile and big teeth.
He'd been in my classes since the beginning of the year, yet the distracted look on his face was nothing new.

    "W-what? What did you say?"
    If he had meant the comment to go unnoticed, I didn't know. His stutter attracting the attention of a few more classmates.

    "Nothing, it was nothing."
    Mrs.Brimms nodded, looking towards the back of the room. Adjusting her glasses, she looked down at the sheet of names. Scanning the list, she matched my hand with the name ordered.
"Adrian, is it? Mr.Lynnwood, is there a problem back there?"

    "Oh, um, no, not at all."
"Then why do I hear you talking during roll call?"

    "It was just a minor disagreement."
My heart began to constrict in my chest, and I fought to keep my breathing steady. Half a dozen pair of eyes were staring at me, yet it felt like hundreds more. 

"Would you like to share that disagreement with the class?"
I paused, a few others turning to look at the disorder.
Since the beginning, my mantra was always 'Stay hidden, stay safe'. But the slowly building anxieties were making it harder and harder to follow.

I might as well tell the truth.

"Tyler. McCloud. He disappeared almost a month ago. There were flyers hung all over the city, and his name was even mentioned over the radio, but he was never found. He still hasn't been found. After a while, nobody remembered who they were even looking for. The flyers ended up falling down, and the paper was ripped or soaked through with rain before he was found. And even then, they were just thrown away."

My story was met with silence.
Smothering, deafening silence.

I couldn't stop now, the truth spewing from between my lips like lava. Angry, bitter tasting lava. I was sick of living a lie, of being part of a lie.
I was out of my seat now, shoulders trembling.

"He hasn't shown up since then, It's like this every single day. And you-you have been counting him absent half the semester. I doubt his parents even realize he's probably dea-"

I stopped talking, I'd said too much.
The familiar sense of dread began twisting around the center of my stomach. Fear, poking and nipping at my brain.

Yet, it seemed I wasn't alone in my distaste. Mrs. Brimms' complexion had grown pale, her shaking hands struggling to hold tight to the stationary. Her voice was thick with scorn, her thin lips tugged into tight lines of skin.

"Adrian, I think you need to leave. I will not tolerate slander in my classroom."

"I'm not-"

"Lynnwood, office, now."

I hastily grabbed my bag, struggling to keep my hands steady. I tried to focus my breath, clenching my fists around the straps to keep my anger under control. I tossed the pack over my shoulder, the canvas material falling with a satisfying thump against my back. I turned away from my class, their faces mirroring Brimms' ashen look.

I'm not lying, I can remember. I've remembered everything."

"Freak"
    A singular word caught my ears, a stab of an insult, hardly more than an empty threat. I clenched my hand around the strap of my bag again, letting the jab fall off my back. I couldn't let them get to me, I wouldn't let them get to me.

"Also, you're a geometry teacher, not English."
The door was slammed shut behind me, my heart pounding deep in my chest. The sound itself seemed to magnify in my ears.

Behind me, the class continued their lessons, muffled voices shaky. I would be forgotten within a daytime anyway, my small scene lost within the daily gossip.
A cool bead of ease bubbled in my throat, laughter slipping from between my lips. I pressed the palm of my hand to my mouth, smothering the noise. I began to walk towards the office, I had done it.