In the End

Chapter One

DISCLAIMER

This story is a work of fiction, any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.
This is, surprise surprise, my first book. Judgement and constructive criticism is great, but don't be a dick.
This book will cover the topics of depression, self harm, suicide, and sexual assault. If it's not for you, don't read it, stop here, only warning (aside from disclaimers at the beginning of certain chapters).
So without further bs, here starts the shit show.

Summer- A year ago

I sat on my corner of the couch, the end recliner had been claimed by myself, as it offered the best view of the window in front of me. Anxiety and panic wracking my small body and my heart rate continued to increase, my breathing ragged and my vision darkened...

My face darkened as I remembered that summer, it was rough. The stresses of life and memory eating me up, tearing me apart.. It almost had me, claimed me entirely..
I shake away the thought and try to focus, the board buzzing in and out of my vision. My eyes bounced around the room, taking in my teacher, my peers, my friends, and finally settled back on the screen in the front of the room. Whatever movie Johnson was playing that day has since slipped my mind, what I do remember is how uninteresting it really was.
I counted down minutes to lunch, just wanting to get out of the dark, unwelcoming portable. Not having a phone, I turned to the clock on the back wall, accidentally meeting the gaze of the boy behind me. Nick winked at me, the blues in his eyes shifting as he turned his head, god I loved his eyes. I rolled my eyes, and pretended my face wasn't turning red, hoping the dimness of the room concealed it.
I leaned back in my chair, propped up on his desk behind me, "three minutes," I said in a low voice. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a quick glance at the screen, and nodded his confirmation. I turned back around, letting the legs of my chair hit the floor again, and leaned my head on my desk until the bell sounded.
I stood slowly, taking notice of the way Nick left class so quickly, his friend in tow. I made my way to the common area to grab my lunch, dreading it the whole time. I didn't know anyone at this lunch, I'd be eating alone in a noisy room, anxiety raising.

Thoughts? Is my grammar as horrible as I think it is? Where would you like to see this story go?