Unattainable Fruit

Chapter 3: Cafe & Instructions

Cody's POV

I'm vaguely aware of my leg bouncing beneath my desk, the steady rhythm lulling me until my gaze unfocuses and I'm suddenly thinking about the way that the chapter ended on my latest book I'm reading, the plot holes bothering me since I reached a stoppping point last night before bed.

My brain itches to want to know what happens next, the discussion going on around me in class holding none of my interest as I sigh to myself, the glare of the fluorescent lights like a persistent ice pick against my skull. I do my best to lower my eyelids in attempt to lessen the brightness of the lights, but all it does is annoy me more so I stop, titling my head to the left and right as I slowly zone back into reality.

"...and similarly, Supernaturals are just as marginalized as women when it comes to mental health diagnosis and studies. So my goal this semester is to have you guys dig into your family tree and see if there are any mental illnesses, Supernatural or Human that run in your family. We also are going to send permission slips home for all of you to have therapy sessions as well as a mental evaluation done. There will be therapy twice a week for the duration of this semester and in about a month after shes gotten the chance to get to know you, you will have a mental health evaluation to see what, if any, mental health issues you struggle with so that we can help you select proper tools, coping mechanisms, and healthy communication skills to have a healthy and happy wellbeing. So the first part of this project is to acquire your parents mental health history or information, of course with their permission. Make sure you also get your slips signed as well."

My interest is immediately piqued when I hear Mr. Malcom's intructions, a satisfied smile finding its way to my face as I wiggle a little in my seat, excited to have a project based on something I know so much about and love to research.

From what I remember of my mother, I know that she thought mental health was really important, always doing her best to create a great world for my sister and I so that we could have a safe and beautiful life. Though I guess she never realized that other people have the power to come and fuck up all of your plans, no matter how well meaning they are. The bell rings as the memories slam into my chest and my jaw clenches at the thoughts, my chest squeezing tightly and I suddenly feel like I can't breathe properly, my eyes fluttering rapidly as I try to process the stimulus attacking me all at once. The pain, the fear, the images from that day that I can't forget, the sounds of feet landing against the floor and chairs scraping along the tiles. The florescent lights seem to brighten and pierce my eyes, giving me an instant headache.

My breathing increases before I tuck my head down into my chest, my arms coming up without control to have my hands cover my ears, though there is nothing I can do about the memories that blind me and tear at my chest.

I feel someone push against me as they walk past and it has me gasping for breath, tears streaming down my face as I struggle to breathe, trying to make myself smaller so that I will stop being jostled, the laugher and yelling of my classmates almost as loud as my heartbeat lodged in my ears.

My hands curl around my ears until my nails peirce my skin, moon shaped scars spilling blood, adding to the collection of pale crescent moon marks that decorate the skin behind my ears. I don't know how much time passes before I realize that the noise is gone and that there's no one left around me for me to be scrunched up into myself. When I peal open my eyes I find the classroom empty, save for my teacher Mr.Malcom that stands a few feet away from me, his gaze worried and open. I slowly straighten up and allow my hands to fall, my eyes shakey with the anxiety still coasting through me.

"Cody, are you okay? What happened?" He asks me and though I know he's only worried about me I can't help but get a little annoyed, my fingers messing with the fraying belt that peaks out of the bottom of my shirt, my foot bouncing with the need to escape and run as far away from this overwhelming place as possibly.