Delia
I eyed the clock with panic, watching the hand tick by. Math was my next period, and I was becoming more and more anxious by the moment. I didn't mind math, even though I wasn't the expert at it. The only thing I minded was my teacher, who obviously hated me. Every class I concentrated on the looks he'd give me almost every five minutes. His eyes would look me up and down with boredom; his pupils were painfully and utterly distasteful, gathering all the distaste he had buried inside him- for me. No matter how many times I raised my hand, (which admittedly wasn't very often) he'd ignore it. Every time I asked a question, whether is was intelligent or completely dumfounded, he'd frown. It all just made me wonder what I did to deserve this. I had no friends, and most of my teachers were "eh" with me, but this dude despised me. Nope, not even a sugarcoated "dislike".
What seemed like a second later after daydreaming and worrying, I realized students were scurrying toward the wide and silver metallic doors of the cafeteria. I sighed, trying to settle my racing heart and attempt to rise from the uncomfortable position in my chair, but I couldn't. It seems ridiculous but I literally couldn't move a muscle. The walls began closing in on me, and my regular breathing pace was shortening horribly. I gasped for air, suddenly stuck in what felt like an extremely narrow closet. After finding difficulty to breathe, I eventually came to the terrifying point where I wasn't able to fill oxygen within my lungs at all.
I gasped, slapping my palm on my heart continuously, tears quickly streaming down my cheeks which were probably pale by now. After a few more seconds of gasping and crying, I heard a set of feet hurrying toward me. I opened my eyes to see the lunch monitor, who had to be at least 70, tapping my shoulder.
"Are you alright, Do you need to be rushed to the hospital?" the lunch monitor questioned with a mixture of horror and concern in her voice.
My lungs by now felt like they were on fire, and my vision was blurring- I felt lifeless and weak. The last thing I remember was falling, hard, onto the filthy, tile floors.
A moment later I was trapped at a pitch black setting. I felt like I was floating, light at my feet. To my horror, this feeling surely did not last forever. Seconds later the severe darkness slowly transformed into a cloudy, depressing sky. Voices, terrifying while high pitched, were belting in my ear.
"Kill yourself " the voices hissed, "No one likes you"
I tried to respond but I couldn't- I had no ability. I could breathe again but couldn't speak a word.
"You'll be living with anxiety forever" they continued. I shoved my fingers in my ears, tightly shutting my eyes and wishing for the nightmare to vanish.
The voices loving my response to their demonic behavior, yanked me by the back of whatever top I was wearing, causing my feet to dangle in the air. Containing a massive fear of heights, I internally freaked out. I opened my mouth to scream, but again no words came out. Once the moments of uncomfortable silence was over, I fell. They had dropped me, from what seemed as if the edge of a cliff. I could finally scream, my body flying fast below. I looked down to see a huge pile of most likely hungry sharks, their fins intimidating. My second fear... sharks. My eyes widened, realizing this was the end. My life was over. A sudden feeling of gladness and relief washed over me.
No more anxiety, No more unhappiness, No more suffering. I was free, and hopefully would momentarily be flying with white, angelic wings above and not be tossed down below, surrounded by fire and the unpleasant bad.
Before the shark's sharp teeth could chomp into my flesh, my room flashed before my eyes.
Shawn
I exhaled loudly, closing the front door behind me and lugging my backpack upstairs. It's been an extremely long day, and I only had gotten four hours of sleep last night. Oh and of course, I had homework to do.
Knowing I didn't want to fail Global, I munched on a cheese stick from my brown paper lunch bag and instantly got to work. As I began flipping to the assigned pages in the blue, thick textbook, I heard the sound of an ambulance in the distance. The faint sound soon became clearer; it was headed in our neighborhood. I suddenly thought of my neighbors and what could possibly be wrong. After a minute of thinking, I remembered Delia lived around the block; maybe ten houses away from me. Knowing this, I rushed to my window to see where the ambulance was heading. To my horror, it was making a sharp turn around the block; the street Delia lived on.
Wasting no time on thinking, I threw back on my shoes and bolted downstairs. I left a brief explanation for mom on the counter. I ran down the street as fast as I could, turning and seeing the ambulance parked in the driveway of her house. I wanted to break down and cry, but I couldn't. I raced in her house, my feet following the sound of mature and concerned voices.
On the bathroom floor was Delia. Bloody arms, pills scattered on the floor, razors. I felt as if I've entered my worst nightmare; something way worse than any horror film could come up with.
"Delia?" I questioned, my voice only coming out as a horrified whisper.
"She's losing a lot of blood" replied one of the men "We need to rush her to the hospital instantly."
By now, I couldn't help but cry. I kneel down next to her, tears burning as they slid down my cheeks. Her eyes opened slightly, her face pale.
"Shawn?" she asked lightly.
"I'm here Del. Don't ever do this again, okay?"
She didn't reply; she was becoming unconscious.
"Can I ride with her in the ambulance?" I asked.
The group of professionals hesitated, "Are you related to her?"
"No, but we're good friends."
One of them pursed their lips. "Well... just this once, since none of her parents are answering their mobiles."
I nodded, following them as they pushed her weak, lifeless body out to the truck.n I put my hand over her heart to feel it completely silent.
She was gone.
Before I could burst into even more violent cries, my bedroom flashed before my eyes.
