Ѻver∂ose

Ѻver∂ose: Based On True Events

Note: Some names have been changed to keep their identities protected.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Maria- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Everything is spinning. I slide down the wall. I can't see my own hand. I'm sitting now. I can hear my pulse beating in my neck. The door opens. I hold my breath. The rhythm of the footsteps slam into my brain, much louder than they really are, I bet.

Or are they? Maybe the person is stomping. Maybe she's wearing clompy heels. I shake my head and the restless thoughts cease for a short while. I hear the door creak open and slam closed again. I cover my ears, which are now ringing. I slowly stand up and my hand fumbles to undo the lock.

My stomach lurches and I let go of the lock as I turn around. I throw up. Lucky my hair was in a ponytail.

Much better. I open the stall door and walk over to the sink. I look up into the mirror. My reflection makes my head hurt. I have a pulsating headache. I splash water in my face. I open the bathroom door and try to brighten my face as I join the current of students. I keep my head low.

Blend in.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Caleb- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This dude talks too fast. I'm scribbling notes. What are we even learning about? I smile to myself. Being brainwashed is more like it.

I'm just writing what I hear. I look at my notes. Something about the Cold War I guess. Mr. Kret suddenly stops talking. I look up and see that he is grabbing a stack of papers.

"Now, I've finished grading your tests. I don't think I need to remind you of how much this counts on your final average for the year." Mr. Kret says.

He slinks by my desk. He glances at me and sighs. He places my test face down on top of my graffitied notebook and walks on. I flip it over. A large red number lies in the top right corner of the paper. I squint my eyes to see it. I really need to get glasses. Then I see it.

39.

Out of 100.

Shit.

I turn my paper over again. The bell rings. I get up and walk out into the hallway. I glide down the stairs and out the door. I walk to my house and almost get hit by a car on the way there.

I arrive at my front steps and bend down, sliding the key out from under the floor mat. I slide it in the lock and open to hear yelling coming from the kitchen. I drop my backpack on the couch and slowly tread towards the kitchen. As soon as I enter, my parents see me and go silent.

"How'd you do on your test, honey?" my mom says, anger suddenly diminishing.

The test. The test.

My heart pounds. I place the History exam on the counter. My parents walk over and their anger returns. They start yelling again. First at me, then at each other. Suddenly my mom turns on me.

"You see this??" she screeches at me. "You cause this!! Why can't you be like your older brother? He never caused this many issues!! What is wrong with you??"

My heart drops.

Me. I caused this.

But it wasn't sadness I was feeling now. It was pain.

I run up the stairs, stumbling on the last step. I rush myself up and hurry into my room. I rip open my drawer and grab the bag of Advil pills. I take out five pills and almost bobble them as I put them in my mouth. I swallow them and close my eyes.