⚠️ This is a true story, unfortunately.
🖤1st in a series
✅Completed
I labeled this as teen "fiction" because my target age group usually thinks of self-help books or text books when they hear "non-fiction" and don't realize a memoir reads like a...
The first day of school had finally caught up to me. I couldn't keep my breakfast down because my anxiety was so bad. It was like my throat would reject it as soon as it touched my tongue, as if to say, "Don't you dare think of swallowing that or I will make you regret it." The bus picked me up right at the end of my driveway, so I didn't have to walk far with my Jell-O legs. That's how the little mermaid must've felt, when her legs were brand new and she had no idea how to use them. I wanted to cut off the whole lower half of my body. The anxious butterflies in my stomach and my useless legs made it so hard to function.
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My school
After the bus excursion, there I was. My school looked like Hogwarts. It was this huge, old castle looking building that would be a great place to film a horror movie. I went through one of the many doors and stared at my feet as I walked through the sea of girls in their uniforms of plaid skirts, white button downs and navy sweater vests and boys in their blue and gold striped ties or optional white polos for warm weather, and khaki dress pants. I didn't want to see anyone. I just wanted to get down to business.
I don't know what I'd classify myself as in high school. I did my hair and makeup so all the "popular" kids tried to talk to me because I looked like one of them, but they bored me. I was a lazy friend maker. We sat in alphabetical order in homeroom and my little group of friends that I could stand were the girls that sat around me, in the B row. They were floaters like me. They'd talk to anyone, but I was their leader. I had a few hodgepodge friends in other classes that I'd picked up here and there. It was enough to keep me socially occupied.
It pained me having to pretend to be ok but I had to put on my happy mask, like in the first half of the medication commercials. Nothing enraged me more than people asking me what was wrong. Most of the time, nothing was wrong. I just had a resting bitch face. Something only became wrong when they asked me what was wrong. Then I got pissed.
Anyhoosywhich, I was late, so as soon as I got to homeroom, announcements started and no one had time to bother me with their voices. I gave a few acknowledgement waves to my friends, like I was sad I couldn't converse with them, as we weren't allowed to talk during announcements.
When they ended, my teacher gave us a welcome back speech that ran way over time, thankfully, so we had no time to dilly dally when the bell rang for first period. I set out into the hall with my books, original class schedule, and some tricks up my sleeve.
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