The weight of a truckload of bricks falls on me. My eyes firmly fixed onto the single empty desk and chair at the bottom right corner of the classroom. I amble shyly towards the lone wooden desk and chair and took my seat.
Walls pasted with outdated work from students who have long left the school. Silver staples sticking out, bent and twisted like the sculpture of an abstract artist. This teacher has a very careless taste from what I can see as the recycle bins outside are full to the brim with old paperwork from past students. The other teachers seem more alert than he is.
As I finally catch my breath, and begin to settle into my little desk and chair, I began to ask myself; "Why were they glaring, wide-eyed at me as I walked through the door?" Am I wearing my uniform correctly? Is my hair messed up? Am I too handsome looking for them? It must be my metal-plated black school shoes my mother bought me before she went on her business trip. I knew I should have worn my Nikes.
The thoughts are accelerating inside my head. I want them to slow so I can breathe but they won't. My breaths come in gasps and I feel like I will blackout. My heart is hammering inside my chest yet again like it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin. The room spins as I try and get a hold of myself, trying to make everything slow to something my brain and body can cope with. I feel so nauseous. Faint whispers fills my ears. I hate attention.
"Tyler Brown?" Mr C calls out,
"Tyler Brown!?- Tyler!- Mr Brown!!"
I awaken out of my trance-like state. "Yes sir, that's me." I respond repetitively but softly.
What a start to the first day of one of my many nightmares say to myself.
What a start indeed.
YOU ARE READING
Better Than S.A.D
RomanceA love-tale about a curious teenage boy who suffers from Social Anxiety Disorder still in the mists of finding himself but unexpectedly falls inlove with a beautiful young girl who loves pretending. Emotions run high as this story takes you on a ro...
