The Letters of an Autophobic

Ellie's POV+

The bell rang a screeching note, closing the depressing realization between me and Michael. At least I won't have to see his face until 8th period... So life dragged on. English was as usual filled with drama, Shakespearean drama, French could suck it because it blew that much, and Band was the only place I could get my anger out through music. I was shoved in the halls for the mininum of 8 times, called some type of slander every 5 minutes, and tripped a multiple amount. I sighed as the bell rang to let me out of Chemistry and walked towards the cafeteria.

The hellhole of all places.

Nathan could never look out for me at this point of my day because he had 6th period lunch. I never could get the attention I wanted from anyone, not even the geeks and nerds because they were too smart for me. The stoners made my nose hurt, the jocks made my nose bleed, and the preppy little cheerleaders were no where near friendly. Skaters were either part of the stoners, the preps, or posers. No one was really emo in this school, and if there was, they'd change the way they look in a matter of one day. If there was anyone else, they kept themselves hidden way better than me.

I clenched my bagged lunch and kept my eyes focussed on the prize; a small corner in the courtyard that I could call salvation. I'm suprised there was no meat thrown at me today, but I did get the milk and an occasional french fry. I hummed to myself, kept myself under control, or at least as much as I could.

"Hi," one of the skaters came up to me, "I'm Frank Iero."

"Frank Iero, I'm Ellie," I said blankly, "Ditch me right now before you become as unwanted as me."

"Ummm, yeah Mikey said you'd do something like that..." he sighed, "Come on, I'm not letting go that easily. Let's go, up!"

He pulled on my collar and pushed me forwards. I put up a fight, not letting him make me move, "What the hell is your problem? What are you doing?"

"Look, Ellie, move on. You're not emo, emo's would cry right about now. Give it up, you're not a lost and forbidden soul. Suck it up."

"Look you straight forward little punk ass-"

"Well I am punk, finally you got it right!"

"Dipshit, stop shoving me!"

"Frank, tis Frank, not dipshit. Man!"

"Frank, stop!"

"Magic word?"

"UGH! Please! STOP," I hollered.

He stopped, but it defeated the purpose. I had yelled, having everyone stop and look at me in the cafeteria and courtyard. I hated silence; it scared me. The fact that I couldn't take being alone scared me too, but being alone and silence made it worse.
I couldn't stop trembling.
I couldn't stop breathing heavily.

"Hey freakazoid, shut the fuck up!" someone yelled.

"OMG, she's scaring me!" another squeeled.

"Help," I whispered, "Help..."

Frank grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door. At least I think he did, I couldn't remember. Before I knew it I was in front of Frank and Michael in the library.

"Help," something echoed; I finally understood it was myself.

"She's been saying that ever since you brought her here, what did you do?" Michael asked warily, "I'm suppose to help her get better not worse!"

"Shhhh," the librarian whispered fiercly.

"Should we get Nathan?" Frank asked.

"No, I think she's better; she stopped saying 'help'," Michael smiled, "Hey, can you hear me?"

I nodded and a shiver went down my spine. A bell rang what seemed distantly. Frank looked to Michael and he nodded to him. I was up on my feet, the two of them next to me and rushing me towards the doors. We quickly turned left and before I knew it, we were outside of school. The sun hit my eyes, blinding me, but we kept running. My eyes adjusted and I finally saw we were on the streets. Honks shot out in the air mixing with the smell of gasoline from idling cars. Brooklyn was noisy this time of day. I pulled on Frank's hand and he stopped running, along with Michael.

"Come on, we can go to my house; Dad doesn't care," Michael spoke up.