WHAT FEAR WAS
I walked into art, my eyes landed on Gavin, I walked right back out. I'm such chicken shit, too afraid to face my problems. I keep doing stupid shit, especially when I'm drunk, then I run away, I hide. I'm a coward.
I ran to the library and hid behind some heavily stacked bookshelves. I encased my knees against my chest and laid my head down. I don't know how long I sat there just staring at the odd brown stain on the cream carpet. I was suddenly shaken from my daze when I heard a loud crash. I jumped from my position and peered around the corner of the bookshelf to see the librarian drop a stack of book, this was followed by a string of cuss words. A few students jumped to help her. I just shrugged back behind the bookshelf.
I gently yanked a book from behind me that was digging into my back and laid it down in front of me. It was a thin book with a worn and torn cover. The cover was done up in black and white of a drawing of a young boy.
Me: "The Boy Who Sought Fear."
I read the title quietly. I gently picked up the book and thumped through the worn and delicate pages. I quickly peeked from behind the bookshelf to see the librarian still mulling around with her books. I tucked the worn book under my shirt and hastily fled the library.
It was freezing outside and a light layer of frost covered the ground. But I sat on the brick wall outside the school anyway and cracked open the book.
That day I ended up skipping both art and science and nearly missed my bus as I read the odd book.