(REWRITING) The Skylar Experiment : Coveting

Chapter Fourteen - Oral Presentation Anxiety

But I guessed I was selfish, because it didn't stop me from walking out of class and dumping my notes in the trash. Breathing heavily, I rushed to the restroom and shoved back tears. Everyone knew I was a wreck, but it didn't mean I was going to let them see it. 

I pushed the stall door and locked myself in. It wasn't my job to lead the cops and they had no idea what I'd lead them to if the Wanderers were still here. I wasn't a hero. I wasn't strong. And I wasn't freaking okay.

I gasped for air. It broke down into uncontrollable sobs as I exhaled, and my chest tightened so hard it hurt. It hurt to know things will never go back to normal. There was nothing more I wanted, but as my mind spiraled while my feet still stood on the bathroom floor, I realized I wouldn't come back.

Someone opened a door and paced in the vacant bathroom.

"Emma?" Mile's voice echoed off the walls.

"Go away!" I snapped and wiped my wet cheek. I didn't want him to witness this... this ugliness in me. "Just leave, please."

"I'm not leaving," he said, and I heard his footsteps inch closer. He was now leaning against the door of my stall. "Emma, talk to me. Let it out."

"I'll be fine," I replied, and another tear rolled down my cheek, falling onto my arm. He'd think I was pathetic and whiny. Others around the world had gone through drastically worse, and yet I couldn't handle this. "I just need a moment, it doesn't matter."

He became silent, and I thought he'd left me alone. His legs slid down the pillar all the way down to the floor, his back against it. He was right on the opposite side. "It does to me. I want to understand. I want you to trust me."

I didn't answer. My eyes had closed, my brain visioning the dark forest for the millionth time and the screams. I was spasming into oblivion, glimpses of the desolate sky in the clearing and disembodied voices humming in space. Then, the sky—a ceiling, now, turned lower and white. My parents. Crying and calling my name.

My bed was the most terrifying place of all in my house now, with its direct view on the near woods.

"It's not about the oral presentation, is it?" he asked. "Not mostly, at least."

"I'm sorry for ruining it. I...I didn't mean to put a damper on your—"

"Nevermind that. I'm just worried about what's going on with you. We can always catch up the oral later, it's not a big deal."

"It's a long story, Miles. I can't make you listen to all that."

Most of the story was insignificant ramblings. My lower lip trembled as another wave of constriction squeezed tears out of my eyes. My fists clinged to restrain them. I didn't know why; I was already bawling my eyes out.

"I'll listen to whatever you want me to," he answered. "You don't need to tell me something if you don't want to. I just... I want to know how to help you. Please, let me help you."

The bell rang and people streamed from classes. Girls tried to invade the bathroom, but Miles shooed them away, and they begrudgingly moved to a lower level. Another bell rang and the next period started. It took me what seemed like forever to get a grip over myself and ease out of the stall, minutes where we didn't speak. He waited there, sitting on the tiled floor.

When I showed up, his head lifted, and he quickly got up.

He hugged me. It was light, but it felt safe and welcoming. My weary head fell on his shoulder, and as if the contact of him reopened the wounds, I felt a series of sobs clogging my throat.

"It's okay," he whispered.

"You're wrong. I'm not tough or treacherous, Miles. I'm just weak and lame. That's all I am."

He distanced himself and rubbed my arms, like I was cold and he tried to warm me up.

"That's not true. Don't ever say that. I've known people that went through things like this, and they moved on. Things do get better. You can change everything if you want to."

I blinked the blurriness away and looked up. I was so tired of being this way. Pathetic, scared little Emma. I would do anything to become someone else. "How? How did they do it?"

Miles stared straight at me, an unusual seriousness falling over his expression. The laughing crinkle in his eyes and the worry disappeared, as did his relaxed composure.

"How would you feel about fighting back, Emma?"

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Welp, there it is. 

Hiya, peeps. As you can see, shit's starting to slowly hit the fan. I was so stoked at the beginning to reveal the double POV for this. It's a challenge to show two diverging views, but I'm somewhat satisfied with it so far. What do you guys think? Is Emma credible and is her POV real? Is the intensity alright?

Also, RIP to Stephen Hillenburg, the creator of Spongebob and the building block of my childhood. It would have been pretty crappy without that show and I loved coming home from school to sit in front of the TV and watch. I'm not even exaggerating when I say that I learned English through Spongebob. I was fluent by the age of seven before they even gave us language classes. I wouldn't even be able to write this to you today without it or read the works that inspired me. He was the real OG ♥