One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, after seven pills I don’t remember much, just the music playing in the background. The bottle of pills falling down my throat. One chasing after another. And the sweet tears of true happiness lining my cheekbones. I’m free. Free from the voices, free from the face of disgust when their eyes lay upon me. Finally free.
“Get up. Get up!” I hear my mom sigh out of annoyance. Once my eyes flicker open. She rushes out my room shutting the door behind her. Muttering something about being late or something along those lines. It was just a dream. I sigh realizing my breath is still steady. I kick my legs out of my duvet. Somehow I manage to drag my body to the bathroom to get dressed. I look in the mirror disgusted by what I see. Looking forward to putting on a fake smile and prepare myself for another semester of hell. I throw on a pair of my many black skinny jeans and try to make myself look a bit presentable. I run my tan skinned fingers through my almost pitch black hair. My earbuds now in my ears I run out the door, not caring to acknowledge my family or the quiet vibrations through my stomach. My worn out boots hit the gravel, and makes a crunching sound. I adjust my beanie on my head. Time for another seven hours in hell. I look up and realize I just bumped into someone, he was in my English class or something. I mumble a sorry and throw my earbuds back in my ears.
“Freak”
I shake my head, this has been happening to me more often, if I ever have to actually interact and make contact with someone, I can hear what they are thinking about me. Sometimes, but rarely, if they’re emotions aren’t guarded from me, it’s as if their whole life flashes in my eyes. I would learn their deepest secrets, their biggest regrets, their most cherished memories. All their secrets are now in my head. When I can’t see and hear they’re past it usually means they’re not able to trust anyone with their secrets, not even themselves.I look up realizing somehow my feet managed to navigate me to school themselves while I was lost in thought. As I walk through the doors that open to hell, I pull my earbuds out. I run my hands across the rustic red lockers. Hearing the metal clinking, as my many rings drag across the lockers. A flock of high schoolers pass by me. I run my hands through my hair, and massage my temples. I can already feel my headache growing through my head. I sigh, realizing English is my first class of the day. The heels of my boots make clicking sounds as they hit the white and green tile lining the school.
Once I find my way to the math classroom and sat down on the uncomfortable chairs that are behind the worn out desks in the back. I look straight up at the white board with black streaks across it, obviously recently erased, I cringe at the the random mars on the board. My Obsessive Compulsive Disorder kicks in and all I really want to do is run to the front of the class and clean the board, but obviously I don’t. I can’t handle looking at the board and somehow I end up lost in thought. Suddenly I feel a hand surrounding my shoulder.
“She’s totally out of it.”
I shudder at the thought that flew in and out my mind, I swat away the strangers hands and look up into his eyes. My anxiety kicks in and suddenly I feel like I can’t breath, why was someone talking to me? Why did they have to touch me? Are they judging me? I could always find out if I “accidentally” brush my hand against him, but hearing others thoughts while mine are going berserk wasn’t a good idea. Once I manage to put my thoughts back into order, I force myself to look up at the tall figure.
“Yes?” I ask not knowing what to say.
“Mrs. Laurel just assigned us a project and we were paired as partners?” He answers with his sentence sounding more like a question. Probably wondering why I didn’t know this information, because I was there while she said all this.
“Oh yeah, sorry I was lost in thought.”
“Understandable.” He smiles. “I’m Luke by the way.” He introduces himself, and puts his hand out, expecting me to shake it.
“Zenia.” I smile, and reluctantly shake his hand.
He turns around to his desk to bring the handout Mrs. Laurel gave him, and I use that second to take in his features. His black hair is pushed up in a quiff on his head, making him look at least two inches taller, his pale skin under his Rolling Stones tank top, so he has good music taste I guess. I remember him, he was the kid who was always bullied, for something I can’t remember. He turns around and takes the open desk next to me.
Suddenly Mrs. Laurel speaks up. “Today will be the only day you have a chance to work in class, so I suggest you take this time to plan where when you and your partner can meet up.”
“So, how about we go to that coffee shop that's like a five minute walk from here, let’s go after school?” Luke scratches the back of his head, he is nervous? Why would he be nervous?
“Yeah, of course meet you outside at the school doors.”
“Okay!” He beamed, I nodded my head and the school bell rang, I grab my stuff in run out, trying to avoid the flow of other students.
