10 | chapter ten

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Niklaus Wade

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Niklaus Wade

The halls are filled with students but that's to be expected. The third period bell rings so students pile into the hallways on their way to the cafeteria for food that wasn't really pleasant tasting but I guess eating that was better than starving for another hour and a half. It was hard for me to walk through these halls when there were so many people rushing to get into one room so I hung back a bit, flinching and folding into myself to avoid brushing my shoulders against anyone.

I really wonder how I ever survived high school with my touch anxiety, there has been many times where students would come close to me and nearly run into me but they never did. Now that I think about it, whenever a person came too close for comfort near me, a guy with his hoodie up would push the person or shove them and the guy would just disappear.

At first I thought it was just some guy urgent to get to where he wanted to be but after it kept happening from Sophomore year until maybe the first week of senior year, I knew it wasn't a coincidence but maybe it wasn't the same guy but everything about the hooded figure screamed that it was the same person.

The hoodie was different each time but the physical built, the large hands that pushed the people away and the fear on the persons face as they whipped around, saw the person underneath the hood and ran away was always all too familiar. I could be reading into it, maybe I was just imagining things. There was no way some guy in a hoodie noticed my distress whenever people came by and had enough care in the world to come to my rescue.

The guy probably didn't even know who I was but always just happened to be at the right place, at the right time. A blessing in a hoodie. Someday I wanted to see who it was, maybe thank him even if I could just be imagining things.

While everyone piles into the cafeteria, I walk straight past the double doors filled with loud students chatting about whatever sparked their interest. My legs take me down the hall, passing by the old black vending machine that didn't work and never worked. Sighing, I watch as a kid who looked to be maybe a sophomore kicks the machine relentlessly trying to get their treat out. It most likely got stuck as it was falling, peeking a little closer I see his snack is Welch's fruit snack, the blue one with the mixed fruit flavor.

I began to feel bad for the poor kid, his snack is literally inches from being released from the hook but it was being held tightly within the hooks grasp. Looking at the scene as I casually pass by I'm reminded of me back in my Freshman year.

I was in front of the machine much like the kid was and I was shaking the machine, or attempting to, but I was too weak and I was three or four inches shorter than I am now. Fortunately my snack fell, the delicious treat was a Rice Krispy, and I was excitedly ready to dip down and pick it up to eat as I was too anxious to go into the cafeteria room filled with upperclassmen so this is all I had to eat. My luck ran out and I darted away when, in the corner of my eyes, a large male came and swept my treat into his hands almost knocking into me.

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