Born to be Different

Chapter 4: Student Services

Everyone tells us from birth all the way to adulthood that we should be unique and be ourselves. "You're not like anyone else, you're limited addition and that's a good thing." Is it really, though? If you set yourself apart from others, you're labeled as an outcast. This is why most people choose to go with the crowd. It's easy! They don't have to worry about being neglected. They just hide their differences from others. It's easy! It's so easy to follow the crowd! It's so easy to hide your quirks and tics! So how come I don't know how?

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Kim Namjoon

Getting called to the administrator's office is never a fun thing. There are all sorts of things that could be wrong under such circumstances, the first thing that comes to my mind is that someone caught me missing class today, which is a really scary thought. I could be in big trouble. However, getting out of math class is a rare treat, so I'm kind of willing to take the risk. Not that I have much of a choice.

I'm trudging to student services with my hands in my pockets, fiddling with my tangle toy. It's a little embarrassing, but it really helps me with my stimming, and that helps me focus in class. However, I don't like to show it too much because, if the bullying is this bad now, imagine how bad it'll be if everyone knows that I need fidget toys to help me focus. So I keep it safely hidden in my pocket.

(Stimming: Slang for stimulation. This can include rocking of the body, chewing, fidgeting with your hands or feet, and even blinking rapidly among other things.)

When I finish my walk down the hallway, I'm staring at the dark brown wooden door. It's as old as the 60's when the school was built. On the front is an old, worn out, golden title plate with the words, "Student Services," carved in faded letters which are almost unreadable.

I take a deep breath before hesitantly knocking on the rough wood, closing my eyes and mentally encouraging myself as I do so.
I wait for a while until I hear an older woman's quiet voice invite me inside.

"Come in!" She says through the door. Slowly I open it and mindlessly walk inside. She motions to one of two chairs sat neatly in front of her desk and I take the second seat to the left. It's near a corner so I have a barricade protecting me from the prying eyes of the other students and teachers in the hallway.

"M-Mrs. Song? You wanted to see me?" I nervously ask Mrs. Song as she stares at me. Her smile is way too big and it's honestly making me a bit nervous.

"Yes Namjoon. Thank you for coming. Have a seat. How has your day been today?" She asks me as she types something on her computer. This isn't my first time seeing Mrs. Song, she likes to have check-ins on me every once in a while. She's one of the only teachers in the school who really cares about the bullying I deal with on a day to day basis. She's tried going to the school board to tell the other teachers about it but they never do anything. According to them, because of my autism, I tend to overreact about things so I shouldn't always be taken seriously.

Mrs. Song motions to the two leather chairs in front of her desk. I sit at the one closer to the wall because the barrier gives me a sense of security and I like that. The one near the door is too exposed to everyone else and it makes me uncomfortable. People will stare and the draft of air will blast through the room, and then I'll be cold.

I look down and fiddle with my hands. "P-Pretty good." I lie. Although, its blatantly obvious. She gives me a look that shows that she's aware of my lying. She then moves her glasses up on her nose. She has one of those old fashioned pairs that has a beaded chain instead of ear pieces.