Miss, Do I Know You?

04 - Thursday, September 17

Weariness of existence had draped itself around my shoulders like an oppressive, smothering shroud. Despite my best efforts to engage with the lesson, the monotony of the classroom rendered my mind a distant wanderer in a realm far removed from the confining walls.

Trapped in a fixed gaze upon the monochromatic whiteboard, my eyes feigned attentiveness in a feeble attempt to placate the watchful eyes of the teacher. But when a gentle nudge against my shoulder fractured my illusion of absorption, I found Olivia's eyes on me, brandishing a cautionary glint.

Gulping, I turned to meet the piercing gaze that had singled me out yet again. "Yeah?"

Miss Martin gestured to the board, indicating a problem that had eluded my absent-minded grasp. "I asked you if you could come solve this."

"Can I not?"

A sarcastic smile pulled up the corners of her lips. "Can you not be witty and bother to pay attention for more than three minutes?"

"Do you want an honest answer?"

"I want you to grasp that it was a rhetorical question and do what I'm asking of you."

Fatigue smothered any sparkle of humor or defiance that longed to burst forth. I merely nodded and drifted to the front. But as my hand reached for the marker, my gaze was momentarily ensnared by the ink on her hand. Forming a word, smaller designs twisted beneath the rings on her knuckles, along with something on the side in a twirly script. Her right hand, however, was a blank canvas.

I swallowed the queasiness that inched up my throat and calculated everything, all the while trying to ignore the hot gaze etching a searing brand in the back of my skull. Her obvious intention to humiliate me did nothing but accentuate the hollow sense of inadequacy. I longed for some remedy to still my jittering nerves, their burden teetering on the precipice of a crushing panic attack.

Further aggravating my state was the gnawing unease gnarling in my gut, an echo of my futile attempts to secure more than a mere two hours of sleep for once. The lure of alcohol had always been irresistible to me, particularly on sleepless nights, its intoxicating embrace unspooling the threads of reality to weave the web of sleep in their place.

But the euphoria it offered was transient, and the price for it was an overwhelming sense of malaise that left me feeling even more wretched than before. My excessive negligence of health and well-being had once again demanded its due. I squirmed around restlessly on my feet, suppressing the urge to flee from the oppressive environment that very moment.

"Um, miss?" I managed a feeble smile. "Can I go to the nurse?"

She glanced at her watch. "We only have a couple of minutes left of class."

Time played a ruthless game, each second tolling like an unrelenting drum as I held her gaze, battling fiercely to maintain composure. Until a gentle flicker of compassion softened the sternness in her eyes, if only for a second, and she offered a subtle nod.

I shouldered my bag and beat a hasty retreat from the classroom. But before I could even reach the stairs, my legs redirected me in an alternate direction, my mind begging my stomach to keep everything inside for but a few moments more. I barely outpaced the nausea, though it yielded nearly nothing in its futile upheaval.

Bitter taste of bile invaded my mouth. Saltiness of tears blurred my sight. Everything appeared to be spinning around me as I sat with my knees on the restroom tile, the school bell grating against my eardrums like nails on a chalkboard, blending with my dry heaves and the persistent cramping in my stomach.

All I could do was sit there and struggle to remember the simple rhythm of breath against the choking sensation and the throbbing of my pulse in my ears. I couldn't explain why I was like that, why my body and mind seemed to be in a perpetual mutiny against my will. Swinging from contentment to paralyzing anxiety from one day to the next, the fluctuations in my mood were something I despised deeply. I constantly struggled to find a foothold of mental balance.