Fighting the Disquiet

1

"I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hate so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with the pain."

- James Baldwin

Don't get me wrong, I had every intention of starting this school year off right. I had gone shopping for new clothes, purchased some new makeup, tried to work on my tan all summer...you get the idea. But when I exited the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and I saw my stupid brother's smirk I couldn't go through with it.

I guess I should explain. Two nights ago, Friday night, my brother and his best friend threw a party at our house while our parents were on their anniversary trip. I had no interest in being around a bunch of horny college boys so I stayed upstairs in my room and took some Benadryl (maybe a little more than recommended which I am in no way promoting) and tried to get some sleep. Anyways, I ended up having the worst nightmare of my life.

Most normal people would have gotten over it. But you see, I'm a little superstitious when it comes to dreams. I always have this weird feeling like they're trying to tell you something. And this dream, well it was one of those dreams where you wake up angry with whoever it was in your dream you were angry at.

You know the ones right? Where you can't help but want to punch the person in the mouth for whatever they said or did in your dream because it felt so real, even though it was only a dream and they didn't actually say or do whatever it is that pissed you the fuck off.

Well, it was one of those dreams and boy did I wake up pissed as fuck at my stepbrother and his best friend for what they did in my dream. I was so pissed that I locked myself in my room the whole weekend and analyzed the dream. Well, what I could remember of it. I was a little fuzzy on the details, but like I googled it and everything. Basically, I knew that it was playing on my fears of starting over, making friends, maybe getting a boyfriend if I put in enough effort...more specifically playing on my fear of trusting others.

And believe me, I have every reason to have trust issues.

Back to my intentions for this school year, my junior year of high school. I was determined to make this year better than last year. But that stupid dream put all these fears in my head and I decided that I would be writing off all dreams of making friends or finding a boyfriend. I would instead focus on getting my GPA high enough that I might get some really good college scholarships so I wouldn't have to live at home after I graduate.

My heart was racing with anger as I closed my door, which is like two steps from the bathroom, and I took some deep breaths to calm myself down. There was literally no reason for him to even be awake at the ungodly hour of 6 am since his college semester doesn't start for another week. I groaned to myself and waited for my heart to return to its normal thumping rhythm before scolding myself for not bringing my clothes with me to the bathroom.

My room doesn't have a lock on it. Which in my honest opinion is a crime against humanity seeing as I am almost seventeen years old and anyone can enter whenever they want to disturb me. I stared at my closet from where I stood, leaning against my door, and mentally sorted through my clothing options. I was planning to wear a cute pair of shorts and this floral top that tied at the waist and would definitely require a sweater at school on the account of it being strapless. But I didn't want to put in so much effort and give people the wrong impression: that I was interested in making friends and being popular.

I sigh and end up throwing on a pair of joggers with a printed t-shirt. I didn't want to look like a complete frump by wearing sweatpants even though that's exactly what I wanted to wear and what I wore basically all of spring semester last year, so I figured joggers would suffice. They weren't like the sweatpants material ones either, they were like, nice. Anyways, I proceed to complete my hair and makeup, nothing too extravagant because I don't want to look too dolled up, but I definitely needed to cover the bags under my eyes.

When I was finished getting ready I spritzed some body spray all over me and headed downstairs. Luckily, my brother was nowhere in sight.

"Morning," my dad says as he looks up from his laptop from where he is sitting at the kitchen table.

"Morning," I reply, trying not to sound too unenthusiastic.

"Food's on the stove," he says after taking a sip from his coffee.

"Thanks."

After serving myself some breakfast I join him at the kitchen table. I wasn't really hungry but I knew that if I didn't eat I would probably pass out later. As I said, I'd avoided leaving my room all weekend and didn't eat really anything except for the junk food I had stashed in my room. I just told my dad that I had cramps so he wouldn't bother me. Talking about that stuff really makes him uncomfortable so he pretty much didn't bother me at all after that.

"So, what time do you need to be at school again?" He suddenly asks me.

"Oh, first bell is at 7:45, but I wanted to get there early," I say, "I don't want to get lost," I add.

"Okay, well we should get going," he says as he checks the time on his watch.

I take another bite of my food before deciding I can't force any more of it down and throw it away. I collect my backpack from the stairs and meet my dad outside in the car.

"Are you nervous?" He asks after a few moments of driving in silence.

I shrug, not bothering to look up from my phone. Scrolling endlessly and mindlessly through social media is about the only thing giving me a sense of sanity right now. It's the perfect distraction from the nerves of starting a new school year. That and streaming Gossip Girl into the ungodly hours of the night which is why I am so exhausted this morning.

When we pull up to the school and behind a line of cars that are dropping other students off I take a deep breath before opening the door handle.

"Have a great day, honey," my dad calls out as I slam the door shut.