Eyes That Glow Different

3

        What I thought they were doing, I was the person who was actually doing every strange thing I thought up in my head, or what I thought I had seen, did I even really see what I thought I saw. Loud clicking heels like the beat of a metronome headed towards my direction, the striking click of her heels almost hypnotizing me, coaxing me to rest my head, and fall asleep forever like a hushed version of death. Mrs. Daniel placed her dry cold hand onto my shoulder, the sting of her cold icy hands woke me up from my stupor, and made me yet again realized that she wasn't shooting daggers at me with her eyes or furrowing her brows with disgust, she was looking at me with the eyes of a concerned guardian.

        The corners of her mouth turned up into a smile, and as she brushed her long charcoal black hair behind her ear she bent over, and in my ear whispered as soft as fleece, "I'm getting worried, you've been spacing out, and staring at everyone for 20 minutes, and then you proceeded to laugh in a really creepy way, I think you need to take a break and go to the counselors." Without a word I packed up my things and strutted to the councillors' suite, it wasn't my first time anyways.

        My councillor and I have always been super close which to others may seem a bit odd or peculiar. I knocked on the door of my councillor Mr. Manson, he always knows it's me, I use the same knock every time, he practically expects me to show up everyday which probably isn't a good thing, but oh well can't help that I'm an immensely stressed-out teenager "not" going through phases "at all" as incredibly cliché as that may seem.

        Mr. Mason is the only person who'll listen to my weird dreams I have every night, lately they haven't been dreams, they've been nightmares all about the same thing, he says it's normal for anxiety and all that to cause nightmares which I get, but I really can't put my finger on it, something seems off. He always gives me the usual "you'll be alright" or even the good old-fashioned "stay strong trooper" how am I supposed to feel comforted when a 50 year old man who is my councillor, who wears the same cardigans everyday, and always talks about how his wife keeps on hogging the TV after dinner every single night, I'm not saying I dislike Mr. Mason or trying to come off as negative while describing him, but he can be a little "interesting" that's legitimately the best way I can describe him.

        The session we were having wasn't any different, I could tell he always actually did care about me, and my well-being no matter how awkward he was. "Florence, I know how you haven't been able to sleep well or I guess sleep at all, and that may make someone a little loopy and whatnot, but hysterically laughing in class and staring at everyone isn't..." he paused mid-sentence noticing my attention, and hands were occupied with the abundance of fidget toys he had left on his desk, and I noticed that he seemed to struggle with how he wanted to end his sentence, and that he was a little concerned that I wasn't paying attention, so I tried to stare him in his piercing green eyes, I tried because I know I'm not the best at making eye contact, and good manners are the least I could give this poor man for dealing with my melodramatic self practically everyday.