The Way The World Ends ✓

Chapter 2. Indigo

~

Our dried voices, when

We whisper together

Are quiet and meaningless

~

The rest of the morning I drifted from class to class. Well, not drifted so much as stumbled. I'm not exactly very present in my environment. My mom used to tell me I spend too much time examining the inside of my skull and not enough taking in what's around me. She was right. I never stopped to smell the roses with her. I'm much more preoccupied with counting off how many things I have to do in my head or thinking about exactly what I'm going to do from this moment to the moment I finally get to walk back into my safety bubble. Yes, it sounded dumb, but that was what I call it. My safety bubbles. There are only so many in the world. It was a place where I felt one-hundred-percent safe with no chance of spontaneous anxiety attacks or unwanted company. Usually. Whether it was sitting in my little corner at the coffee shop or under the covers of my bed, my safety bubbles were the only places where I could find shade in the desert.

Anytime I stepped out of the bubble, I felt a strong sense of danger. Who knew what could happen? Going between safety bubbles or venturing out of one for the day was like crossing a river; once you stepped off that bank, the water could sweep you away. You were not completely safe until you reached the other side. In fact, between banks, you were trapped inside of the river until you either finished the journey or turned back. It was that moment of knowing that there was no escape that truly terrified me. Even thinking about it too much caused panic to creep into my subconscious until I couldn't breathe anymore. Then I couldn't escape the thought.

Bathrooms were safety bubbles. It was a tiny island of solitude amidst a fast-paced river of danger. I ducked into the bathroom in the middle of the hallway when my throat started to tighten from the panic. Too many people were in the hallway. Usually, I tried to run out of the classroom right when the bell rang, but this time I didn't. Stupid.

I locked myself in one of the stalls and closed my eyes, bracing myself against the walls. In, one two three four. Hold, one two three four. Out, one two three four five six seven. Repeat. I opened my eyes after a few cycles of deep breathing and the world stopped tilting to one side. I tugged on my hair angrily, wanting to yank my thoughts right out of my brain. Obviously, restrooms aren't the highlights of anyone's days, but biologically, my brain was constantly in fight, flight, or freeze mode; which meant the unfortunate side effect of occasional vomiting and IBS when the world was too much stimulant. I needed a few more moments to talk myself down, but life wasn't going to wait for me. The bell interrupted my efforts.

"Ow," I breathed, annoyed as I slammed into the locked door in the process of trying to unlock it.

My shoulder throbbed dully as I ran down the deserted hallway, skidding around two corners. Being late isn't great, but the time crunch made me feel better. No time to mull, which meant no time to get in my own head. Overanalyzing situations was my downfall; the more time I had to think about things the worse they became in my mind. Ripping off the bandage was better than slowly pulling out all the hairs.

I opened the door to my English classroom slowly, not wanting anyone to see me slip in, but I was too late already. All eyes were on me as the door squeaked open one inch at a time. I felt my face flush as I wiggled into the small crack between the door and the wall and made to slide into my usual seat near the door... but someone was there. My throat started to close again, but I clenched my teeth, much to my jaw's protest, and stalked across the front of the classroom to an open seat near the window. I glared at the boy in my usual seat, hoping to somehow disintegrate him with my mind. No such luck.