Riley Swavé- a story that carry's somewhat interest

Breif description of my reality

I spend a lot of my time looking at the world through a cloud. By my own will at least for the ideal most part. Would it be easier not to? Probably not. But what do I know.

Count back from 17. Have a glass of water. Take a pill. You are not going to throw up. A rather simple concept to your average human but not to me. Since I was eight I had a pretty inhumane outlook on a simple act though to my brain it is worst case scenario. This makes no sense. Hold on I'll restart...

I am insane. Ok no that's not better.

His name was Kyle Edwards. It was second grade. It's as far back as my memory can take me, but I was in a blue dress. I was skipping back from the bathroom because as an eight year old life is a simple happy experience. I walked into the classroom to see vomit all over my desk. I was mortified to say the least. It's not like I haven't seen it before but it was a completely different experience this time. I turned around, faced the cabinets to cover my mouth from shrieking. That's all i remember about that day. Parents say I ran out of the school and down a block but I don't recall it at all. Probably was true. I haven't talked to him since.

Third grade we visited a kindergarten class for book buddy day. He projectiled across the room.

Fourth grade it was during one of my classes. I didn't eat for the rest of the day. Well besides one carrot. I scared myself to the core of the point of throwing up myself. In front of a class. It was an awful day. No fever. I cried to the nurse and asked her to hug me, we had gotten pretty close by then. She was aware I was a special kid. I still didn't like spending much time there though.

Fifth grade. His name was Jason. In a trash can during class. I hid in the closet. Later that year I got the stomach flu over a weekend. My sister had it and by this point my parents knew I was "special" so they asked my grandma to take me to a museum and out of the house for a day. I came home and things didn't turn out the way I had hoped. I have not returned to the museum. After that things got a little tougher. If I felt too warm in a room or even too cold I would worry I would have to relive that day. My teacher became quite aware of this situation and we spent some quality time together. I think she thought I would outgrow it. I think I thought so too.

Six grade actually went well. Oddly enough. I didn't have to go through anything of that caliber at least.

Seventh grade was not really an ideal situation. I am now 13, your basic fuck. I matched my eyeshadow to the color of my Nike T-shirt and thought that I was the actual shit. I gave no fucks. Looking back on it I definitely should have. Like wow what the fuck. It was bad. I was pals with a nice group of psychos and we all sat with each other at the middle school lunch table. And then my father decided it was time for a change.

You don't know what to feel when you move for the first time and actually remember it. The movers moving all your stuff. A sense of excitement and a sense of absolute soul crushing fear. Wish I could have moved when I was hotter but we don't all get what we want. We moved an hour west to a town called Hartland Wisconsin. Oh yea I am from Wisconsin. This part isn't all that important to the beginning of this story though. Anyways I was about to attend my first day at my new school. "Swallow elementary". It was k-8 so there were little kids all over so a basic nightmare. I showed up in a beanie and a Coca-Cola t shirt. First day of school. What an asshole.

My name is Riley. Yes it can also be a boys name. In fact it's mostly a boys name. I was aware. The world was aware. My parents decided to be some hipster fucks and here I am. My escort on my first day of school was named Melissa. Very sweet very kind red headed girl. When I first walked up to introduce myself her face fell and she seemed glum for the rest of the day. I thought I had already majorly screwed up but learned later that when they announced that a new student was coming Melissa assumed I would be some attractive male and had apparently called dibs on me. She was not happy at the discovery of my gender. There really was not much I could do there. I made my first friend Mandy by saying I liked a song about gummy bears and had the same kind of dog as her. She was a complete complete psycho. I mean insane. She's gone now deep in California- I think sandeigo? Our friendship was short. Quite a drama queen, much worse than me. I actually spent a bit of time in the skater group, hats off to you beanie- pun intended. I met my real grow of friends when I told them I liked Minecraft and drawing mermaids. Jay. She was and is one of my best friends to this day. So I don't hold the move against my father any longer.

By the time I was in eighth grade I was no longer the new kid and had created a nice spot for myself on the bottom of the food chain. I didn't care though because I was a lead in a play and to me that's dream=made. That however only lowers me more on the chain. Eighth grade however really fucked me up and to this day I didn't know why. I stopped worrying about getting sick when others did and instead worried every single day on a constant. Which is not better than my precipitous situation. I had to train my friends to respond to feeling my head for fevers and reassuring me I will not throw up. Which is not a great dynamic. Life wasn't great and I was not getting many solos in choir.

But this is not a sob story. This is a love story. A love story auto biography. A love story autobiography slash people with anxiety should be able to relate to this with at least some entertainment. This was just a simple background into some of what you kind if needed to know. But for the sake of a semi successful Wattpad novel I'll include my interesting romantic endeavors and then some.
So buckle up because now its eighth grade and his name was Parks.