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    It was cardio today in PE, absolutely dreadful, the teacher had us run many laps around the track outside and there was just no way I could keep up. Well for starters I was out of shape, second was that I couldn't run half a lap without having to stop to inhale from my inhaler. Thirdly, was that I could swear everyone in this school must be on steroids. By the time I was done with my first lap, Keenan and his cronies were on their last and final lap, and they weren't even winded either.

    I was either really REALLY out of shape, or they were some supernatural human beings. Probably the former.

    I froze when I felt a familiar pair of eyes on me. I sneak a quick glance to confirm my suspicion, my heart jolts in my chest as my eyes connect with his beautiful dark ones, glaring spitefully at me.

    This is about the fourth time I caught him glaring at me, each time I looked away first, and tried to keep a low profile. But I could still feel his presence, I could still feel his gaze following and peering at me, watching my every move. It made me feel super self-conscious and hyperaware of myself.

    In the last 20 minutes of PE, the teacher let us play a quick game of California kickball. Apparently how the game was played, was that they'd have us split into two teams. One team would be up to "bat" and the other on the field. There'd be a kicker and a group of students would need to run from base to base without getting knocked out and eliminated by the squishy ball. After three strikes, the teams would alternate playing the field. The teacher wouldn't let anyone NOT participate, she'd notice you even if you hid in a mass crowd of students. Believe me, I've tried.

    Instead of humiliating myself with kicking the ball, I opted to run instead.

    The ball is kicked by the batter on my team to what I thought was an easy homerun for us, by how it looked like it literally disappeared into the sun. But with how athletics came as natural as breathing to these people, I should have known better. I'm only about six full steps from the home base when I feel the squishy ball slam into my upper back, almost taking off my head. But it did send me dramatically sprawling several feet across the floor.

    Immediately the whole class erupted into laughter, the force of the impact knocked off the glasses on my face and the breath from my chest, so now I can't see and I'm struggling to catch a single breath.

Let me tell you something, I am blind as a bat, squinting stopped helping in the sixth grade. Without my glasses, I was at a severe vulnerability. I can't see where they went, they're blending into the floor. I start patting the ground around me and the laughter gets even louder, my cheeks redden and I realize how pathetic I must look to them.

    Finally, I spot what I think is their outline, I make a grab for it when a huge foot appears, completely crushing my one and only pair of glasses, underneath them. My glasses are basically my lifeline that helps me function in the normal world. Even now his face was a distorted blob in my vision, yet I knew exactly who he was by how every fiber in my being stood on its edge.

    "Hmmm," he said, the sound of his voice a low and deep timbre that rolled through my ears like silk. "That's unfortunate."

    He was emotionless and cold. I imagined that if I could see clearly, I'd find his dark soulless eyes narrowed down at me, daring me to do something about it.

    I'm not a confrontational person, never have been. It's just not in my DNA, even being yelled at is enough to bring me to tears.

But I've witnessed firsthand the kind of influence this man in front of me has, nothing I do or say will stand a chance.

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