Starting Off Wrong [𝐠𝐱𝐠]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟏: 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥

TW: A character mentions a panic attack.

The drowsiness of Mr. Vellot's voice lures me to back to sleep. He paces in ovals in the front of the room, reaching the end before spinning on his heel and turning back. The book is held with one hand, the other behind him. He doesn't look up once and wonder what the class is doing. I'm sure half are doing other class work for other classes.

"Let every soldier hew him down a bough and bear't before him," just looks likes a load of gibberish to me. I stare at the letters of my book copy, wanting to turn them back into normal words, well as normal as old English goes.

The previous evening had been outright embarrassing. I hadn't meant to fall apart in front of Aurelia. I didn't want her to see all my strings coming loose and ending up in a pile in front of her. And even if I'm afraid to admit, I felt better as she held me, I don't know if I can forgive myself for pulling her into my mess.

But as panic attacks go, I have only had one more that I can recall. When I heard my dad had gotten into a car accident. There were no current details, so my mom had rushed her two eleven-year-old twin daughters to the hospital at one in the morning, hoping her husband was still breathing.

My dad had ended up with a fractured knee, a not too serious of an issue the doctors assured us, but my brain couldn't accept that when there were bruises and scratches all over his face.

I couldn't stop thinking he was gone and despite being a hospital, where some would argue is the best place for a panic attack to occur, I passed out and ended up with my own hospital room.

When I heard that Odette had gotten into an accident, just as dad did, I won't hesitate to say that my heartbeat hasn't quicken as fast as it did for my dad. I guess it could have been because I was older now and able to control my feelings more than an eleven-year-old could, but even so, I feel guilty.

I shouldn't. Aurelia is right.

Odette is so malicious and cruel towards me. Why does she deserve an ounce of my sympathy when all this is her fault.

The empty right hand, the one who was struggling to follow along to the lines in the book, forms a tight fist while the other hand clutches the book even more firm. The crisp sound of the pages curling under my force causes me to loosen my chest and the pressure in the hands. There's no reason this book needs to feel my wrath.

That's it. I'm never speaking to Odette again. I don't need her. I don't want to her, even. What has she ever done to make my life worthwhile to her? All she does is constantly use me and torture me with her pranks and her schemes. Her teasing smile thinks it has me wrapped around her finger, but it does not.

I will write one more letter to my parents and if they do not answer, I won't bother thinking about them either.

My declaration to myself makes me feels lighter. A smile forms on my face and I let it stay there, but only because I'm sitting in the first row and no one can see my smiling to myself.