Paper Cranes

(Social) Anxiety/OCD

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Lyla

Even though I hear the jingling of my keys, I cannot suppress the urge to check if they're really in my pocket. I start to take in air again when I feel my fingers brush against the familiar shape of my keychain and then my house key. I start to go down my mini check list as I walk toward my godfather's car.

Stove?

I checked to make sure that the stove was off five times. You could never be too careful, right? But even though I know I turned it off, I send up a silent prayer that the house won't burn down.

Iron? Off.

Shower? Off.

Light switch?

Did I turn that off?

What if I didn't turn the light off?

I was going to be gone for a few hours.

If the light was on then the bill would rise.

Then mom would yell at me for not listening when she told me to turn the light off.

And I hate when she yells at me-

An uneasy feeling started to creep it's way into my chest, pushing out the air that once filled it.

I ran back inside.

***

I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I agree to it in the first place? Why am I even here?

I looked upon the large amount of people that surrounded my godfather's house. Some were smoking, others held up bottles of coke to their lips laughing to one another, and the rest were lazily walking about, food hanging from the sides of their mouths. I could feel the vibrations, from whatever song was playing, traveling up from my feet and reverberating throughout my body.

"Welcome to my annual block party!" He turned and shouted to me above the music. "C'mon, we won't have any fun just sitting in the car!"

He opened the car door and hopped out, throwing his arms up for a quick stretch. Meanwhile my butt was firmly planted on the passenger seat, there was no way I was getting out. By now some guest had begun to expand out into the streets, gradually moving closer to the car.

"C'mon Ly." He beckoned from his driver door.

I sighed, it couldn't be all that bad? Right?

***

There were two rows of white fold up chairs that were set up along the sides of the extended driveway. As we walked further down, I noticed that all those chairs were occupied. Instead of hearing the words that were coming out of my godfather's mouth, I only heard the rushing of blood in my ears. All I could see were the seemingly hundreds of eyes glancing my way as we made our way to the back of the house. Now my palms were really starting to sweat.

Head down
Head down
Don't look
No one's judging you
Breathe
You can do this

Something about crowds or meeting other people in general sent small pin pricks of dread throughout my body, throughout my mind. I was starting to really regret my decision.

"Hey Lyla, you're okay if I leave you for a quick second. You know your way around the house and the neighborhood, right?"

I opened my mouth to utter a shrill "no, of course not" but he had taken my beat of silence as a yes, and darted into the back door, leaving me alone. It was true that I had been to my godfather's house before but as I looked around, not one face seemed familiar. The overwhelming scent of burning beef, the uncomfortable stares, and the loud booming of reggae was enough to make me flee the scene.

Moments later I found a deserted spot off to the side of the house. I took in a few deep breaths. It would just be better if I stayed in this little corner, away from anyone.

Alone.

I ignored the soft gnawing of hunger that pounded in my stomach as I looked up at the sky. Streaks of pink were mixing with a few golden rays of orange and fiery red that peeked out from behind the clouds to dot the fading blue sky. I pretended like I wasn't here, like I didn't foolishly agree to living out my worst nightmares.

"Hey, you okay there?"

My eyes immediately cracked open as I jumped at the sound of the sudden voice.

I peered over my right shoulder to be met with the sight of a tall, rather skinny boy. His hands deep in the pockets of his black jeans. His Nike shirt shifting with the wind as he stood rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting for my answer.

I held my breath, "Um, yeah."

"Why are you here, alone?" He asked, his eyebrows dipping.

"Well- I -just like to be alone." Where my chances of fainting from anxiety are less.

"Oh come on! It's a party! Why'd you even come if you're just going to sit here, by yourself?"

Good question.

"Look I just wanted a breather, that's all, thanks."

The uneasiness was back again and this time I couldn't suppress it.

"If you'll excuse me."

A/n

This chapter was based off of a real life event and my real life anxiety but I don't feel as if I portrayed it exactly as what anxiety feels like, at least what social anxiety feels like.

Hopefully you all feel differently about that?

Thoughts? Criticism? Improvements?