Disturbed Lincoln

2

Today I claimed I was sick, but my mother took my temperature, listened to my cough, and judged that I was healthy enough to attend. She dropped the older siblings off (me included) and then left to drop off the younger kids. The large entrance of this place reminds me of a brick mouth, opening up to swallow the unsuspecting kids that poured in. My heart started to race as my imagination began to further illustrate this comparison, and I could swear I now saw teeth slowly protruding from within, and all the windows became hungry yellow eyes staring down at me, waiting for me to enter. I repeated the mantra in my head: You dealt with yesterday and you can deal with today. After some deep breaths, I built the courage to walk.

Walking through the halls is frightening. They're always considerably crowded, especially in the morning when people are all moving in one direction at once to get to their lockers. I don't do well in crowded areas. As I'm walking past people on my way to class, some of them look over their shoulders, and although they aren't looking at me, I can see their faces in the corners of my eye. Their faces are dark, so dark you could assume they were painted, and the body language they display suggests mockery. Pointing, staring, laughing—all in my general direction. I'm going to connect the dots and guess that to them, I'm a laughing stock. They're laughing at me because I'm weak; because I'm scared; because I ignorantly walked into the mouth of a beast, and was now soon to be devoured. I looked behind myself and glanced down the hallway. The teeth were closing in, and now there was no door behind me to escape through.

Trapped and forced to march forward. The story of my life. All decisions are made by the emotions within me. I can no longer make a decision without basing it on my body's impulse. The most I can do is go against my internal alarm, feeling fear tingle in my hands and feet, and spite it with counter-intuition. "Take that, you invisible force of trepidation! I'm going to eat this skittle that fell on the floor whether you like it or not!" Hah, that'll show anxiety and paranoia. That'll strike them where it hurts. Before I know it, my body's already self-piloted its way to my first class, and I'm sitting down in my assigned seat at the back corner of the classroom. Beside me, there is a window. Rather than listen to the teacher drone on about math, I observe the beautiful blue sky outside.

White puffy clouds and green grassy hills roll over each other. It was a peaceful sight. However, soon enough, the serenity was disrupted, and the world turned a shade more cataclysmic. The sky turned a sinister purple with bright strikes of electricity running through the darkened clouds, which now condensed into a large layer of grey that obscured the sun. I started to panic. I could feel my breaths hasten and then struggle when my chest began to tighten. Was I the only one to take notice of this large event? This monumental change of weather and destiny? For God's sake, the world is ending and I'm the only one to see it? To acknowledge it? I almost felt like crying, because I could picture my family disintegrating, and leaving me either to die at the will of this storm, or abandoning me, and leaving me to roam what's left of the destroyed world. Cities collapse, countries fall, continents sink... it would all be over soon. I could feel it.

"Mr. Loud," a voice called out. "Is there something outside that's more important than this class?" He drove my attention away from the window, and upon looking back, the sky was again a beautiful azure color, and the clouds drifted like marshmallows floating on the blue sea. Coming down from this panic, my voice shook as I spoke. "N-no. Sorry, Mr. Green." He shook his head in a disapproving way, then went back to teaching. I slammed my fist on my lap and let out a frustrated grunt. Damn it, I let it get the best of me every single time. I rested my head in my arms and the world around me vanished, and was replaced with the inky black world behind my eyelids. The next thing I heard after I woke up was my name being called in an exasperated tone. "Congrats, Lincoln. You slept through my class again. Does that make you feel accomplished at all?"

The day dragged on like every other. A cycle of panic, short relief, then panic again, sprinkled with moments of pure anxiety in between. All of it felt like it weighed on my back, getting heavier and heavier with each day, and funny enough, as if the weight were literal, my posture falls closer to the ground as well, drooping down by the pounds of struggle attached at the other end of the string. I should write a story about myself. At times, real life can be more whimsical than fantasy. Well, "whimsical" for some. I live in a horror story where you never get to see the monster. The bell rang and took me out of another enslaving gyre of rumination. Leaving Chemistry, I then unenthusiastically walk to Lunch. Beloved by many—hated by me. "Hey! Are you going to sit with us today?" a voice asked. It was Clyde, and he was now walking abreast with me to Lunch.

     "Um, I don't know Clyde. I'm still kind of struggling." He throws his hands down, upset. "Come on, Lincoln! You've been saying that for months! Just spend one day at our table. You don't even have to speak, just be there! You'll be a lot happier if you do." I contemplated it for a few seconds while Clyde eagerly awaited my answer. Thinking about the morning and all the paranoia I let have power over me, made me spiteful. I'll sit at that table, and I'll do it purely out of hatred for the way it makes me feel. "Fine, but don't expect me to be very funny or anything. I'll probably just do my homework or take a nap." His face beams with delight. "No problem! Do what you want! Our table is a region free from restrictions and... censorship. What the Linc-master must do, he can do. No holds barred!"