A Trip to the Library
The bells ring and announcements overhead, my ears they ring with immense discomfort.
The soft cotton of my shirt brings me comfort, while my leather boots rub in a way that causes annoyance.
I smell the books which relax me, yet the musk of computer cleaner amplifies my headache into a horrendous pain.
I see a girl writing; she brings me a sense of wonder, while the senior boys one chumming around computer away chumming around enrage my dark spirit.
I want to scream and get them all to quiet down, yet I keep my composure by focusing on the darkness of my mind.
The smell has subsided, but left me wanting to vomit and leave this supposedly quiet place.
My shirt starts to constrict, and I can't breathe. I gasp for breath and with each gasp my shirt clings, making it seem like I'll die if I don't rip it off.
The bells stopped, but the ringing continues because of the small talk going around, having paranoia that the laughter is brought on at my expense.
This is my own prison, how I feel every day, yet I remain in the library for comfort. It's my safe haven, and why I must not leave.
I won't break down here.
My Asperger's has gone away for now.
