Callum's Colours

S E V E N T H • day

Everyone must know that feeling.

When your heart beats so rapidly you fear it could escape. When your palms are so damp they slip off every surface. When your eyes are permanently scrunched, just about trapping each tear threatening to stream past the lids.

Even when my eyes are peeled open, wider than could even be believed possible, everything is distorted.

My eyes sting as the classroom walls tilt. My ears pound from the laughter and screams. My hands drip with sweat.

Every sense seems to be competing for maximum effect.

It's been seven days.

Seven days of avoiding school, camped in my room wearing headphones. Scared of every shadow and shaking at each noise.

Seven days since that Friday night. I struggle to even say the word, let alone write it.

Rape.

The pain is so raw.

I thought returning to school, being surrounded by people would be a comfort. Only now I'm learning it's the opposite.

Sixth-period maths is always bad but today it's unbearable.

Fatigue loosens my muscles but my mind stays taut, haunted by the memories that hunt me in my sleep. Even shutting my eyes for longer than a series of seconds sends shivers up my spine.

Around me the echoes louden. When I look up, bodies tower as they all swinging on backpacks and file out the classroom door. I follow reluctantly.

The corridor outside is hectic and immediately deafening. I push through, breathless and in a dreamlike state.

Elbows and kicks follow me, knocking the the air from my lungs which I hardly notice leaving.

Someone shouts but I can barely hear them, even though their only standing a few steps away.

They grab my shoulder and shake it. I turn round to face them and this time listen. It's immediately clear what they said.

"Fag."

I turn back around and stumble through the corridor more dazed than before. My body tenses and hand dampen.

No one at this school knows about me, about my sexuality. My whole life it's been a secret, especially from family and friends. Even from a young age, my instincts knew I wasn't meant to feel that way around other boys.

That's why Caleb and I were always so cautious, never meeting on the "good" side of town. Our numerous dates were always in the rough part, where the druggies and homeless are in control. There's no way anyone could know about us.

That's why I'm so terrified of the kid who shouted the word I dread.

Because there's no way anyone at school could know about us. There's no way they could know about me.

"Oy," The same boy shouts after tapping my shoulder. I flinch and walk faster.

He continues, "Gay boy!"