H2O | ✔

Chapter Twenty-Eight : You Don't Understand

"I wonder why we all fear the things that we might not know

I wonder why I can't find my voice in my dreams"

Sam

39 weeks before Mesi woke up...

I raked a hand through my hair, feeling that familiar pit in my stomach grow. I squeezed my eyes shut, as if I could just blink and it would all be a dream, as if I could imagine myself out of that situation like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz.

I stood up from my desk, almost knocking the thing over and causing everyone's attention to fall on me. I felt my face heat up, knowing a blush was making it's way to my cheeks, grabbed my bag, and fled. I couldn't stand that stupid air conditioner anymore—the way it made goosebumps rise on my arms, the quiet but roaring sound it never stopped making that penetrated my mind and stopped all train of thought. Then there was the clicking and un-clicking of pens, the squeak of pencils against paper, the tap, tap, tapping of the kid next to me who's nervous twitch was driving me insane. All of it just boiled up in my body, I could actually feel it growing from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair. I knew I would lose it if I stayed in there any longer, I had no choice but to leave.

"Sam! Sam! Where are you going?" my teacher, Mr. Katz, shouted after me as he leaned his head out the door. I simply shook my head and ignored him, speed-walking the rest of the way down the hall, flying down two sets of stairs, past the auditorium, through the parking lot, and starting the route home.

My feet pounded on the pavement. I ignored the growing cramp in my left shin, the way I could barely feel my feet anymore. I didn't pay attention to the way my lungs clenched in need of air, begging and pleading for more oxygen than I could give them. I paid no mind to my heart beating ten times too fast in my chest, feeling like it would fall out at any moment. I never noticed when I started running, but at some point I think I registered it was happening.

I crossed five streets, passed two elementary schools and countless houses all in an attempt to get home as fast as possible. It felt like my life depended on walking through that door, slipping my shoes off, making the journey upstairs to my room, and burying myself into the covers.

I blacked out after that. Not in the way people talk about in the movies and the TV shows. I didn't pass out, I didn't stop moving. I kept running, I must've, because the next thing I knew I was sitting in the bathroom attached to my bedroom, back agains the door and head in my hands.

I took a deep breath, a piss, changed into sweats, and laid down in bed with my favorite playlist on. For a while I drifted off to much needed sleep, waking up only when I heard the garage door opening beneath me.

Glancing at the clock, I cussed, realizing it was already six o'clock. I hadn't even started my homework, not that I did most of it anymore. I would never have admitted it to myself, but I was slacking off. Everything school-related was met with a strong feeling of dread and frustration and the thought I can't.

"Sam!" my mom called from the bottom of the stairs. "Sam! Get down here right now!"

That pit returned. I rolled out of bed, falling onto the floor only to pick myself up and stumble down the stairs, still groggy from my "nap".

I rubbed my sleepy eyes as I entered the kitchen where my mom lay in wait, stopping when I got to the island so there would be some sort of stationary object between us. "Hi, Mom."

She cocked her head to the side. "Hello, Samuel," she replied sarcastically. "Do you want to explain the call I received today from a Mr. Katz?"

I shrugged, not knowing what to say. I'd left. I knew she wouldn't be happy about it at the time, I knew she wouldn't be happy about it as she asked me that question, but more importantly I knew she could never understand. I'd tried to explain these feelings to her before, and it never ended well.