antidote | h.s.

1 - tighten up

hi.

disclaimer for some topics of mental illness, sexual assault, and self-harm. most topics will be labeled before any chapter where they are extremely prevalent, but please, if you are sensitive to any of these, be aware that they will be present. i have some other books without them if you would like to go check those out instead ;)

anyway, i hope you enjoy. thank u for reading :)

ashton mackenzie

My expectations for after high school mostly surrounded the idea of not being in high school anymore. No more uninterested teachers, no more report cards to get reprimanded for, and absolutely no more fucking bullies. 

The last thing I expected in my first job out of college was to be thrown right back into that environment. It's my fault for choosing a career that puts me back in the classroom, really.

Not only was I back to avoiding the lunchroom and listening to the whispers about me behind my back in every room I'm in, but it's coming from grown-ass adults with mortgages and kids and much much better things to do with their lives than make mine miserable.

"Miss Kenzie?!" a small voice yells for me from across the room. I get up from my little pity party at my desk and decide if I should correct them on my name or tell them to raise their hand and not call out when they need help first.

Oh, who cares about the name, Ashton, calm down. 

"Emily, what do we do when we need help, my friend?" I say with my sweet but stern teacher voice that I perfected my third year of undergrad.

"Ask for help," she responds back to me. God, this is going to be a long day. It's only 9 am.

"Right, but do you remember how we learned to raise our hands when we need Miss Mackenzie's help?" I try to make it sound like her idea, hoping she will get it. I really am just blindly going through this shit and hoping I don't fuck up the minds of a bunch of five-year-olds.

"Oh. I'm sorry Miss Kenzie," she says back to me, sounding genuinely sorry. I decide to let the name slip by again because I truly don't have any more patience left. I throw on a sympathetic smile and lower myself to her tiny desk.

"It's okay, my friend. What can I help you with?"

Emily starts talking about something that definitely isn't a question, nor something she needs help on, but I listen anyway, because that is my job.

I mold the minds of the young, when really I just feel like an underpaid babysitter who teaches them what the names of the colors are.

But I love my job nonetheless.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone walk into my classroom. I glance quickly, thinking it is just a student who I let go to the bathroom down the hall, but I do a double-take when I catch a glimpse of the tall figure belonging to my boss.

"Hi, Mrs. Jensen!" I nearly interrupt Emily's story and jump from my crouched position. My eyes scan the room in a panicked search for anyone not doing what they are supposed to.

"Hi, Miss Mackenzie, how are you doing today?" she asks. She seems so genuinely nice but from everything I have heard about her she seems like the devil.

"I'm doing great. We were just finishing up our morning work," I try and make it seem like I wasn't just sitting here and letting the kids color.

"Oh, well, that's great!" she says enthusiastically, looking down and smiling at one of the kids whose eyes have been glued on her since she walked in. She's kind of like a celebrity around here, especially with the younger kids. I mean, it's pretty normal for the kids of a school to idolize their principal, but Bear Lake Elementary takes it to a whole other level than what I saw at the school I student taught at last year. "Could we speak outside, Miss Mackenzie?" She whispers, making my stomach fall.