One (Sarah Crossan)

Eyes

Tippi can’t stand clowns.

Dragon is terrified of cockroaches

and Mom of mice.

Dad pretends to be fearless,

though I’ve seen him flinch when the mail arrives,

seen him hide

hospital bills and parking tickets under

stacks of junk mail and old newspapers

in the hall.

Me?

It’s eyes I despise.

Eyes,

eyes,

eyes

everywhere,

and the probability that I’m

another person’s nightmare.

So when Yasmeen opens the door to our homeroom

and every head

turns

slowly,

I grab Tippi’s right wrist

like I always do when

I’m afraid.

‘Welcome! Welcome to Hornbeacon!’ the teacher says,

doing everything she can to sound natural.

Yasmeen groans, leads us to some seats at the back.

And the whole way there we are

followed by a field of open mouths,

thirty pairs of bugging-out eyes,

and one hundred percent pure

panic.