Terrible Fates (BEN Drowned story)

Chapter 18

"Mama," I murmured, holding out the gallon of milk, "I'm okay. I'll get over it and come back home looking like I can run ten miles straight."

The reluctance was in her eyes as she shifted them from me to the gallon of milk. With a sigh, she grabbed the gallon and said, "Sit down and let me make your breakfast, at least."

I handed her the milk and she placed a tender kiss on my forehead. As Mom walked around the kitchen, gathering stuff to make me a breakfast that wasn't cereal, I sat next to Hunter at the table. I placed my arms and head down on the tabletop, and my brother immediately put a hand on my head.

"Are you sure you want to go to school today?" he whispered to me.

Even though I didn't want to, I knew I would have to. Despite that school can be a bitch to go to sometimes, I kind of don't want to miss anything while I'm gone. With my luck, it's always something important.

"I'm alright with going to hell, my dude," I murmured.

"If you say so," he replied, though I could tell he would prefer me to stay at home. Thanks, but no thanks. I don't want to stay stuck here, suffocating in my frustration and anxiety.

I rested at the table as Hunter gently scratched my head and went on with enjoying his orange juice and toast. Several minutes later, Mom placed a plate of pancakes onto the table with a glass of milk. She gave me the bottle of syrup to put as much as I wanted and kissed the top of my head.

"I expect you to come back looking like you can run twenty miles straight," she joked and I managed a smile.

"Thank you, mama," I said.

"Anything for you, mijo."

While Mom washed her dish at the sink, Hunter and I stayed sitting at the table. Every so often, I'd stick my fork out to him with a piece of syrupy pancake on the end, and every time he would lean over to take it into his mouth without so much as a glance away from his phone. Seeing him look laid back reminded me of how wired I felt, but it also relieved me. After my dream, I'd rather see that the Earth is still rotating, the sky is still blue, and my family is still happy than even think about myself.

...

I felt nauseated as soon as I stepped out of the Chevelle (which I had been using to get to school lately). But my hands already shut the driver's side door and locked it, and my legs already carried me forward by the time I realized I didn't want to be here. Without much complaint, I sauntered towards my school, earphones in my ears blasting music to drown out everything else. Seeing crowds of students in the main court waiting for school to start made me dizzy for a split second. I clutched one strap of my backpack tight, trying not to let my stress get the better of me.

And suddenly I felt like throwing up, so I ran to the mens' restroom and barged into an available stall. But nothing was willing to come out of my mouth other than my rage-filled growls and swear words.

After I came out of the stall, other boys stared at me, worried or weirded-out. Casually, I washed my face by one of the sinks, dried off with a paper towel, then tossed the crumpled, beige paper into the trash on my way out.

That's how I acted through most of the day: relaxed, quiet, mentally stable. No one was the wiser that I felt like being none of those things.

...

If I could barely handle the crowd in the main court this morning, the cafeteria was a fucking nightmare. People were getting mixed up more than usual today and staggering for longer whenever I tried to maneuver past them. With every bump I felt on my shoulders or on my backpack, my annoyance grew. Even with my music on, I could still hear people talking loudly. I would crank up the volume but I also don't want to bust my damn eardrums.