Memories, Scars and Survival: High School Years

Chapter 29 - Einar

I was about to sleep when I remembered the poem was due tomorrow. I reminded Eirik and pulled out my English book and took out my poem. Reading it again, I still agreed with what I felt before. People should know what type of monsters they are.

When dressing in the morning, I pulled on one of Eirik's button-up shirts instead of wearing a crappy t-shirt. I'll have to get some of my own. While eating breakfast, I looked outside. Snow covered the yard. It certainly took long enough this year; Christmas is not that long off.

Eirik came down and looked at me wearing one of his shirts. "Decided you want to dress nicer?"

"I just feel good about myself this morning. You don't mind, do you?"

He shook his head. "Nope, not at all, but if we both wear one of my shirts, how will they ever tell us apart?"

I thought about joking that we should see if Noah can tell us apart, but I didn't want to tease him about that yet. He wasn't too happy about Noah kissing me. "You're happy and talkative, and I'm moody and silent. Also, I wear glasses."

"Good point. Hey, snow," he said, looking outside.

After eating, we pulled on our jackets and got our boots from the garage. It was quite cold outside waiting for the bus. I could hear the buzz of electricity flowing through the power lines. The chickadees were silent. On the bus, many were talking about Christmas vacation.

At our table in school, I pulled my jacket off and joined the guys. "Morning, Einar. Wearing one of Eirik's shirts?"

"Good morning, Charlie. Thought I would see if I liked the look," I said.

"You look nice, but clothes don't make the person," he said.

"Thanks," I said.

The bell rang, and I threw my jacket in my locker. Once in English class, Mrs. Harrison called for us to turn in our poems. Only then did I worry I made a mistake. I would have to read my poem in front of everyone.

"Einar, did you write a poem?" Mrs. Harrison called to me.

I pulled my poem out and brought it up. "Yeah, I have one."

She thanked me, and I went back to my seat. Sitting down, I looked up at her and she was reading my poem. Her eyes looked misty.

She looked around the room. "Remember, you will read these over the next three days to your classmates."

How am I going to read that to the class? My hands shook and I wish I had my anxiety pills. I slid my hands under my legs, pinning them down. Class ended, and Mrs. Harrison asked me to hang back.

After everyone left, I walked up to her desk. My hands were shaking more erratically. I had no control over them anymore.

She looked down at my hands. "Are you alright, Einar?"

"I have tremors," I said. "Once I calm down, they'll go away."

She reached for my poem. "Are you sure you want this read to the class?"

"Not really. At the time I wrote it, I did. I wanted people to know what they did," I said.

"It's courageous of you, and you shouldn't feel any shame. Speaking the truth out loud helps. It releases the ropes that bind your mind. It will help you, and I think it can help others. I want to read it for all my classes as well. Would that be ok with you?"

"I guess."

"Will you be able to read it to the class?"

I shrugged. "Maybe."