The In Between

5: Hope

These days can get so dark, like an eclipse in the sky

But I can rise above, I can find the light

Stand up, you have a voice to be heard, you're worth more than words

"Third time this week. Third time, Riley! I cannot believe this. My God, what is wrong here? I, I just can't. Another week of counseling, now. I'm tempted to call in your parents, maybe they can do something."

"No, they really can't."

"And why wouldn't they be able to?"

"Hmm, well, maybe you have this on file somewhere, but my Mom died, like, 7 years ago, and my Dad left when I was like 5. If you can get ahold of either of them, you may well be God. I would say you could try calling my grandmother, but if she answers the phone, she'll likely just swear at you in some foreign language. And anyways, why am I in here? In case you hadn't heard, I was actually attacked this time, and also last time, but you didn't listen then either."

"Now listen here," he protests, but then stops. He seems like he lost his train of thought. "There was a witness. I was going to hear you, then them, then the witness, and then go from there. Now what do you have to say?"

"Well, the Lovely Angels™ in the Waiting Area right now don't seem to realize that causing and inflaming sensory overload is considered a type of violence. I swear I tried all I could to walk away, I asked them to leave me alone, they didn't, and I freaked out. Then I got slammed against a tree and punched until I..." Well, until the colors were literally blocking my vision, but I doubt he'll understand that.

"Until you what?"

"Until I couldn't see because of the colors." Oh well, new story to tell. "I started projecting the colors, especially whenever they hit whatever was sore from yesterday."

He thinks for a second. "Riley, do you have synesthesia?"

"Yeah," I say, feeling like I just revealed some big secret. "Grapheme to color, sound to color and pain to color. Usually all associated, but..."

"You haven't told anyone?"

If this isn't proof that nobody in this school talks to each other, I don't know what is. "I told two teachers the last time I had a problem with sensory overload, like a month ago. They had no clue what it was, so I had to explain it. I still don't know that they understand."

"You'd think they would, since it's a topic I bring up often in the offices and lounges. Grapheme and sound to color, myself. Both projected. Anyways, I've heard your side of the story, would you mind going back out to the waiting area so the other 4 involved can share their side?"

I walked back to the waiting area, they got called in, and then Cam and I were the only two left in there. It hurt to move, but I tried pretty hard to ignore it. I sat next to Cam, and he looked over at me as if to make sure I was okay. I find it funny that that's probably the best attitude I've gotten from Principal Evans. To be fair, though, every other time we've had to talk, it was because of a fight. I can imagine that doesn't evoke the best first impression.

I wish that being stuck in my thoughts helped with sensory overload, but it usually doesn't influence it either way. The secretary types really loud, her fake nails clicking on the keys when she types. The ticking of clock even sounds thunderous right now. I'm so ridiculous, this isn't bothering anyone else, but then, as far as I know, no one else has fire currently occupying their body, and I'm sure that doesn't help.

From the area of the Principal's office, I can hear some really loud arguing, like they all started talking over each other to tell the story. I hear Principal Evans bellow, "Enough!" The room quieted down. Not long after that, Cam gets called in, and the other 4 come back out. Ryan takes the seat that Cam was in, so he's sitting right next to me. I'm not too happy for it, but I'd like to think I'm safe while I'm in the office. Nonetheless, the noise didn't surprise me. They started talking and tapping and all sorts of noise, but I couldn't say anything, because it was normal stuff to do. As much as it bugged me to hear it, I couldn't complain about it.

When Cam came back out, the secretary told us to go back to class, and that we'd be called back by the end of school. PE was almost over, so we all went and changed back to regular clothes. Thanks to the yelling, clicking, locker doors slamming, and bright fluorescent lights, and then the pain in my stomach caused by all that and the pain in my ribs from the past 2 days in a row, at this point it was nearly painful for the air to touch me, never mind anything else. At that point, it was safe to say that sensory overload had succeeded at its goal of killing me. That's it. I died.

THE END

Just kidding.

There was one more class before the end of school, and it was in the auditorium. It was some class about leadership and making good choices, and it was often during this class that assemblies would be held or such things. It was a requirement to take and I honestly thought it was the dumbest idea ever conceived.

"Alright, so today, we will be covering drug and substance abuse, a common issue, and how to avoid falling into the traps they set."

I was nowhere near in the mood to hear this lecture, so I tuned most of it out. Halfway through the class, Ms. Pines said, "Cameron, Daniel, Grant, Kellan, Riley, and Ryan, please report to the principal's office."

Oh, sh*t, this is the part where I get in trouble again. I might have a chance because Cam was a witness, but it's not at all guaranteed that I won't get in trouble for something. It's not like I didn't throw the first 2 punches. I can admit that, and technically already have. I'm hoping for the best, but the odds are never in my favor. I'm District 12 in the games. I'm not expecting it to go well, but hope is important.

I stood up and walked to the door, waited for mostly everyone else to join, and then headed over to the office.

We were, all 6, called in at the same time. There were only 2 chairs. Cam and I stayed standing, and I guess Grant and Ryan gave the seats to the upperclassmen. The principal looks at all of us as a whole. "I've heard quite a few different stories as to what occurred today. I wonder why that is."

"Well, it's obvious that they're lying. They're friends, and Riley's a bully, what do you expect? Maybe they're not even friends, maybe Riley forced him to say such things!"

"Here's the issue: None of you told the same story. Cameron told the most complete story, Riley's was very vague, and you four, well, you all told a story but each one was different. Based on the information collected and what facts matched with other facts, it seems that there was a disagreement, Riley threw the first punch, but was quickly subdued, maybe in excess. It seems that neither side is particularly in the right, and because of that, I cannot excuse either side. It could easily be said that either side acted in some form of self-defense, though, so it's hard to give proper punishment, as well. Riley, I'm adding another week to your counseling. You four, I'm giving a warning to for now. Causing or worsening sensory overload is a form of violence and can well be considered bullying, and making someone snap and attack you does not automatically make you the victim."

"Yes sir."

"I don't want to see these problems again. At least attempt to get along."

"Yes sir," we all replied."

The bell rang then, and he says, "Alright then, get to homeroom."