To Be Like Me

02

Nobody understands the mind of an anxiety-stricken person. Nobody.

Unless that person has anxiety themselves, having anxiety is the loneliness feeling in the world. The world around you flourishes, while everyone around you watches your self destruction. It's not like they can do anything about it, because it's all in your head.

It's all in my head.

I watched as Delilah slathered lipstick onto her plump lips, her eyes never leaving her reflection. She thought she was beautiful, and I couldn't agree more. But I was also envious. I wasn't envious of her looks, but I was envious of the fact that she liked her looks. I've never liked mine.

"Would you like some lipstick?" She asked.

"No, I'm okay," I smiled meekly in response. She shrugged, then focused back on her reflection.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" She asked, puckering her lips.

"I guess the whole Trent situation is finally getting to me," I said, which was partially the truth.

Trent was never really there.
Physically, I followed him around like a puppy dog. Mentally, I couldn't keep up with him.

"Honey, he isn't worth your time and energy. Hell, his home wrecker of a girlfriend isn't worth your time and energy either. Have you seen her choice in clothes?" Delilah made a disgusted face.

Even after all they did to me, I still felt the need to protect her. To reason with her in my mind; to somehow mentally shape her into a good person who just make a tiny mistake.

Then the other side of my brain tells me that I'm the mistake, and that I should've never interfered with the potential of an amazing relationship. These sides of my brain often battled with each other, like a constant war raging in my head. With every bullet wound, I could feel my body become heavier and heavier.

"I know, I know," I responded lightly, chuckling softly. "She'll realize that he ain't even that great eventually."

Delilah smiled. "That's the spirit."

I mustered a smile in response.

* * *

"Take our your books," Mrs. Luna said, and I did as she instructed.

The heaviness of the book almost made me fall over, even though it didn't weigh more than a pound. My bones felt brittled, and my hands felt weak and bony.

There was a knock on the door, and immediately everyone's gaze shifted over. I, completely uninterested in my surroundings, ended up zoning out while staring at my pencil.

A couple moments later, I was shaken out of my trance. A backpack flew down on top of my desk, and I glanced up. A boy, probably a junior, hovered above me. I felt my face grow warm. Everyone was looking at me.

"The teacher told me to sit here. I'm visually impaired," he said, motioning towards his eyes. He had glasses on, or whatever you'd call four pieces of plastic taped together with scotch tape.

I nodded quickly, then warily got out of my seat and placed my stuff on the desk all the way in the back; the only empty one left.

I heard a giggle, and I could hear my heart beating in my ears. The room around me began to dissipate, and all I could hear was that taunting giggle I heard from the left side of the room.

I closed my eyes tightly, and clenched my fists until they were as white as the paper I had in front of me.

"Lacey?" I heard a distant voice call.

I got up, grabbed my stuff, and rushed out of the classroom.

I began to sprint down the halls, not stopping even when papers started to fly out of my unzipped backpack. I heard a couple thuds, which must've been my books. But at the moment, I didn't care. I needed to breathe.

I ran to the main hallways where the doors were, then I attempted to push them open. With no such lucky, I turned around and slid into the floor, my chest heaving up and down.

Was this the life I really wanted? Was this, me sitting, panting on the floor of my high school hallway, what I envisioned my future to look like?

The bell rang above head, and kids began to file into the hallways.

I didn't move; I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't muster up enough energy to move from my spot.

While I was sitting there, I saw someone make their way towards me. I attempted to glance up, but I felt my head rush as soon as I lifted my chin slightly.

It was a boy. He knelt down in front of me, his eyes filled with concern.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, his voice soft and reassuring. Tears began to well up in my eyes.

I thought about his question. I could be honest with the boy, even though I've never even talked to this boy before. Or I could lie and lie, like I do to everyone else.

But, since I figured I'd never talk to him again, I told him the truth.

"No."