Notice me

04 | Drained

I nod, waiting for her to start.

"Someone called me from your school. They told me about your grades."

"Who is the someone?" I ask while putting on sweatpants.

She shakes her head. "I don't know. They told me their name but I forgot and that's not important."

It is. It is for me. I told her numerous times about my teachers and she didn't even care to learn their names. She always goes "who?". I don't know isn't it like the bare minimum? Isn't it like showing you listen to the other person?

"What about my grades?"

"You are doing poorly in school. And it upsets me."

It upsets me too.

"You weren't like this."

I know.

"What happened to you?"

You and dad happened.

"You need to get better."

I sigh and nod. "Yeah." That's the only thing we both agree on.

She gestures at my books. "Go work on it then." She says and leaves, leaving the door open.

I close it behind her, fighting the urge to slam it.

I sit at my table, opening some books I don't even remember getting. I put on the act as if I'm reading to appear I'm studying but in reality, I'm just resting with my eyes open. Once in a while, I turn the page. I know mom will come to look if I'm studying so this is the best way to show her what she wants to see.

After staring at nothing for a couple of seconds my bottled emotions come out. I let the tears escape and I shake my head. Angry at myself. I shouldn't react like this. Some kids are being abused and I'm crying over this.

Hell. I don't even know what I'm crying for.

I act all serious and tough around others but behind closed doors, I'm an emotional wreck.

I control my sniffs even though I know the person I want to hear my suffering will ignore it.

I bring my knees to my chin. Laying my forehead on my knees. More memories come vivid into my mind. I tightly close my eyes. More tears streamed down my face.

I hit my legs with my fist to feel something different because I'm angry at them, myself, and the world. I focus on the pain that each hit causes. It is enough to stop the tears.

And now I'm wondering if I found another way to deal with my shit.

★ ★ ★

I sit on the side, looking at others participating in PE class.

It's the next day. And looking back on yesterday I'm cringing at the thought of me crying and hitting my legs like a toddler having a tantrum.

Yuck.

Someone sits beside me. I open my mouth to tell them to fuck off but I stop when I see it's Dominic.