Not Everything Stays

CHAPTER 2: Eremophobia

Eremophobia - fear of loneliness

I sighed, walking into the school. 10th grade and 1st year of high school. My last chance of fitting in during school time. I can't mess this up, I told myself, stepping in the classroom. To my relief, only a few people were chatting with each other while all the rest were looking around like lost puppies. Honestly, I probably looked like that too.

I went to sit in the only vacant seat under the window. It was the second row. A fairly good place actually, away from the back-row rowdy-kids. After that, I took out my notebook and pencil case, ready to write down any information the teacher could give us.

Soon enough, all the seats were filled and a teacher also came in. He introduced himself as Mr. Whitlock, our homeroom teacher from now. I was honestly surprised with how young he looked. Most likely fresh out of university. All the teachers I've had in the past were at least 40 or 50 but by Mr. Whitlock's appearance I would say he's about 25.

"Okay, everyone," Mr. Whitlock announced. "Here's your schedule, take a picture," he said, projecting the schedule with the class numbers and teacher names on the board. "As you can see, homeroom is on Monday mornings and I'm also your Art teacher. Anyway. You've got to get moving kids, you have 10 minutes until the next lesson. The teachers will give you the textbooks and by tomorrow, make sure you also have a notebook for every lesson. Class dismissed." He sat down at his desk, leaving the 16-year-olds to scramble up from their seats and pack their things before streaming out of the classroom.

I, among the others, walked down the hall, not really caring if I got in anyone's way. After all, if someone trips over you, it's also a way to start a conversation, right? Any moment now... Ah whatever. I looked up from the floor to see that I had been following others to a classroom. The right one, apparently. I just sighed, happy I made it there. Guess I'm so unlucky that people don't even bump into me at this point-

The rest of the day was a blur, really. And I didn't talk to anyone. A familiar feeling started to appear in my gut, the feeling of loneliness and the fear of that feeling not going away for another few years. I sighed, already accepting the fact that I most likely just wasn't destined to have friends. For all I knew, I was destined for a lonely life and really, as much as it hurt, I had chosen to accept it.