With a groan he leaned back in his chair, hood falling from his head as his eyes traced the speckled patterns of the classroom ceiling. They were going over abusive households... again... for the fifth time that week. Now keep in mind, sophomore year health-and-wellness was usually a thing that most enjoyed; every other day one would get the opportunity to play speedball, or maybe fire arrows at a target, hell even run a few miles if the weather was cooperative . The only downside for most was simply the health portion of this all. For what it was worth, the teacher did an amazing job at getting children to listen, and certainly made the information stick, whether it be through wonderful sound effects or hand gestures, those in his class were usually the cleanest most relationship fearing kids in that school.
He did however, continuously forget that much of the information he spoke of shook a few key kids to the core. “Now class today we'll be talking about ‘cocaine’! Yea that’s right the powdery stuff from Costa Rica, any of you heard of it before?”As if upon instinct the boy sat up a bit straighter and faced the front of the room, reaching back to his hood and drawing the cloth across his face, as to obscure his mouth, nose, and cheeks. “Yes you!” called the teacher, finger brazenly pointing towards one of the girls at the far back of the room, face shocked as she stammered for an answer. “Idiots...” the boy muttered to himself, grip tightening momentarily on the fabric of his hood as a deep red came across his hidden cheeks, ‘teacher knows best, teacher has seen all these things before, teacher can talk about anything he wishes and it always leads back to sex and drugs....’. The boy’s inner monologue stretched out , even as the man in cargo shorts and a white polo backed closer and closer to his seat.
“Alright, now that we're done with that, let’s talk about smoking.” he began just as he reached a spot on the floor behind the boy’s seat. The child’s eyes never left the front of the class while the teacher spoke, in a form of mental trance as whispers about his mind conversed with each other, a smile even brought to his physical form at a point. “You smoke, you smoke, you smoke, you live in a house with a smoker, you don’t smoke! Good for you!” the teacher barked, finally resting his hand about the boy’s shoulder, all hell soon after breaking loose.
“Don't touch me!” the boy snapped, sitting back into his desk violently, metal bar digging into his side as his wild eyes darted up towards those of the teacher, red cheeks and nervous smile uncovered from his hood as his hand clamped upon the man’s wrist. “Well this is certainly interesting isn't it class...” the teacher muttered as he broke free with little effort. He leaned down close before saying in a hushed tone, “Hope you don't mind but you're going to become a conversation point”, to the boy, as if he were speaking about mundane subject such as the weekend soccer match. “Kids!” he announced, gesturing to the boy, who by now was slumped over upon his desk, hood back up over his face and eyes darting wildly about, “This here is what we call general anxiety disorder, a mental condition caused namely by enviormental factors such as abuse, sexual or otherwise, and divorce.” he announced looking down to the boy a moment, eyes scanning him as he continued.
“Now this isn't to say Jaden here was abused as a child, far from it infact!” he droned on, but the words hitting home nonetheless. Jaden’s cheek twitching and his face growing more red than before, ‘did he just...’, ‘yes I do think he did, interesting fellow that one, certainly can analyze’, the voices within mused, chatting away as Jaden sat stiff as a board. “
"In all class, I can tell, you may not think it, you may try to hide it, but I can 8 outta’ 10 times see what has happened to a person sitting right in front of me, I could be wrong! And I admit I have been in the past.” by this point Jaden’s gaze flickered to the clock, 9:03 it read... 9:03? Had it really been that long? Hadn't he gotten to class at 7 something? Jaden questioned himself, only now noticing all the notes written upon the board.
Schizophrenia, BPD, Anxiety Disorder, OCD, Depression, Autism... the list went on and on and on, and all the other students seemed to have taken a full sheet of notes. Praying silently Jaden opened his own note book and found, though written in horrible handwriting, there indeed did lay a page worth of notes on all of the subjects presented. A hint of a smile touched his face just as the bell rung, and the girl from earlier brushing past his shoulder, immediately causing him to tense up for but a moment’s time.
‘Be chill... I swear you really need to get over this touch thing’ one of the higher voices chimed just as Jaden stood and gathered his books. He was well aware of what was "wrong" with him, and certainly didn't suffer much for it... in his opinion. All filed out as usual from that point, Jaden hugging his textbook close as he began to make haste from the room, a hand, half extended stopping him midway out the door. “Hold on, hold on, hold on...” the voice of the teacher trailed off before stepping afront the doorway. “I don't wish to talk, I don’t need to talk to you, I’m not going to talk to you, goodbye.” Jaden said forcefully as he moved his right arm to shunt away the teacher, bandanna binding his forearm making the pressure less noticeable.
“Whatever you say kid!” the teacher half chuckled as he retreated back into his room, jotting down a few notes within plain view of Jaden as he quickly hurried off to Latin.‘Chin up little one... maybe you’ll have better luck with archery tomorrow hum? You do seem to be rather stable at the draw back.’the same deep voice from before reassured him, ‘shut up... just, shut up for today.’ he thought back weakly, reaching into his pocket and drawing out two red and orange capsules, slamming them back into his mouth, swallowing and exhaling; simple sugar pills he knew... the psychological effect immediate though. “Perhaps gym will be better tomorrow...” Jaden mused with a quarter smile, the memories of the class prior fading as he rounded the corner and strode down the hallway.
© Copyright 2016 Dante Arken. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Literary Fiction
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