Fear

Samantha Marshall

            Anxiety.  My stomach flipped as if butterflies were trying desperately to break free from the internal battle.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, but was merely two extensive minutes, the fiend put it in front of me.  Another flip of the stomach.  Some butterflies must not have escaped yet, I thought.  I was looking away, outside the window, letting my imagination clog my mind.  Suddenly, my gaze involuntarily landed on what had just been placed in front of me.  It just happened without my permission, reacting to the sudden noise.  I instantly regretted it.

            The bloodstain stared up at me in a mocking way.  It only occupied a small space; most of it was occupied by black and white, but I could have sworn I heard it laugh coolly at me.  The room instantly started to feel hot, blood rising heavily to my head.  Thoughts quickly jumbled in my brain, none of them making any sense to me.  Anxiety, worry, stress and rage all hit me hard in the chest simultaneously, making my forehead throb with sharp pain.  The authoritative, male voice I was still unfamiliar with drifted off as if it were in another language I did not speak; going in one ear and out the other without any sign of recognition.

            Were my eyes deceiving me?  Was it simply a figment of my imagination?  I tightly closed my now glossy eyes, imagining students happily conversing with one another.  I was part of the conversation.  I opened my eyes quickly yet again, now sure that my mind was simply playing tricks on me before.  It was blurry at first.  My eyes finally adjusted to the colors and shapes around me.  I was wrong, of course.  It really was there, glaring up at me, and I could do nothing about it.

            My mouth felt dry as if all the saliva in my throat disappeared at once, wanting to escape the horror like I did.  Soreness.  Knives were cutting at my throat, trying to break in, trying to hurt me even more.  A salty, warm substance escaped my eyes, cascading down my cheeks swiftly, staining the sheet in front of me and smudging the blackness that was outlined in ivory.  All my attempts at fighting it back were not worth it anymore.  It was a natural emotion that I could no longer control.

            I wanted to scream, but it was as if my mouth was closed shut forever.  I couldn’t register in my brain exactly how to accomplish such a simple task.  Eyes now scanning the room, I took in all the young faces.  They were filled with mirth, eyes glistening with glee and whispering excitedly to one another.  I was alone and felt it more than I ever have in my entire life.  I was the only one who failed.

I traced the bloodstain with my fingers, feeling the curves contrasting with the smooth surface.  I could almost imagine the fiend as he carelessly scribbled the bloodstain on my prized possession, which I thought represented my success.  I guess I was wrong, which, at that moment, started to feel common for me.

            Giving up on vanity and false hope, I escaped from my reality and stared out the window once again.  The dark, hollow trees swayed in the soft breeze as if feeling similar emotions.  Their ominous howling was almost audible.

I was a failure.