Your Friend, Jordan

Seven

  The moment I saw my friends in the lunch room, I quickly turned myself around, rushing out as I stepped into the main hallway once again. They didn't see me, which was for the better; for I knew if they did and saw me run from them, they would try and catch ahold of me. Rushing away from the cafeteria where every student began to enter and head inside, I held onto the straps of my backpack tightly, in a nervous way almost as I sped down the hall. I wasn't too sure where I was going, I didn't have a sure plan in my head.

  Turning down the next hall, it mostly sat empty while majority of the kids were packed in the lunch room, while others hung around the tables outside, and the rest of the students most likely went home or out for lunch. I considered doing the same thing, taking the car and driving around for awhile, but I turned the idea down as I began to turn in the direction towards the back doors.

  I had avoided my friends all day so far, ever since I had my breakdown in Mr. Hawkins office, in front of my friends and the police officers. They had let me run out, no one chasing after me, not at first. Once I had bolted out the back doors, I took in deep breaths as I walked towards the end of the field, needing to get away from everything and everyone as flashbacks started to replay in my head, and I fought hard to keep them away. But they seemed to always win, and I lost while emotions of guilt and shame rose inside me, and they caused me nothing more than pain. I didn't realize it at first, but I had begun scratching my hand again, only this time I drew blood, as claw marks rose on the back of my left hand. But I felt no pain almost, not as strong as the pain I was feeling inside at the time.

My friends didn't come after me then, and I appreciated that. I didn't want them to see me in that state, they couldn't see that. What would they think of me if they saw me like that? Broken, like that? Would they still want to be my friend? Or would they think I'm too damaged for them, and leave me?

They would leave me, wouldn't they? I know I would leave myself if I could. I wouldn't want to deal with someone that ruined and broken, it would be difficult to be around them, wouldn't it?

Perhaps my friends just didn't know where I went after I ran off, and that's the reason they didn't come after me. I didn't know, but it didn't matter that much to me. All that mattered was they stayed away, which was for the better for now. I needed to be by myself for awhile, it was just better that way sometimes. Or most.

With my lunch secure in my bag, I headed towards the back of the field, by the chain-link fence I sat by earlier that morning, needing to cool off for a bit. Only a few other people were outside, some other friend groups out in the distance and closer to the school, while they enjoyed the warm weather we had for once. Whenever we had nice weather, there were always more people outdoors during their spares or lunch break, enjoying the sun. We had to enjoy the most of it, for we didn't get many sunny days going into the fall and winter seasons. Mostly the fall though, as the leaves tarnished, falling away from trees, the grounds turning dark while the cool air drifted by us. And with the sun being hidden behind the thick, dark and gloomy clouds, it made our weather more chilly. I didn't mind it all too much, I enjoyed the colder weather, but not many other people did.

Taking my lunch out from my bag, I sat with my knees close to my chest, resting my arms above them as I unfolded the paper bag. Pulling out the sandwich I made earlier the night before, I took a rather small bite, my stomach turning the moment I swallowed as if it was rejecting the food. I hadn't been eating very well recently, not like I used to. I once ate a tremendous amount, although I seemed to never gain weight as I remained slim and lean. Maybe that had to do with hockey, or maybe it was genetic or something, my dad was the same way. But more recently I hadn't been stomaching food, I just had no desire to eat or craving food, even if it had been days. This had been going on for weeks by now, but no one seemed to notice. I tried to wolf down my food in front of my parents, mostly because they would be the ones to worry over my friends. And so far they hadn't noticed, although sometimes I felt like I was choking down the food instead of enjoying it, as I felt like gagging sometimes.