Status: Active

Fear Me, Dear

You're Just In Time To Witness My First Breakdown

Another school week, another weekend gone in the blink of an eye, and as Monday arrives it's the start of the cycle again. Oh joy. Backpack slung over my shoulder, I stroll through the hallways of college with a scowl. The weather is miserable. The hallway looks miserable. I am miserable. It's Monday though, so my misery is acceptable. The incessant questions thrown at me by my peers died down last week, so this week I hope the questions die down to about five questions a day.

"Hey, who pissed in your cornflakes?"

"Excuse me?" I ask as Max jogs so we are walking side by side.

"You have a bad case of chronic bitch face again. What's up?" He asks, joking momentarily forgotten as he looks at me with concern.

"The sky." I mutter sarcastically in reply as I continue to walk in my state of Monday morning misery.

"Did someone say something to piss you off? Did you forget your phone? Did someone hack into your instagram account and delete it? Did someone, I dare ask, breathe in your general direction? God forbid that happened."

"As much as I hate people, currently they are not the issue. Monday is the issue here." I grumble, continuing to shuffle forward in a zombie-like manner due to immense tiredness, adding to my already grouchy mood.

"Oh come on, it's only Monday."

"If we were having this conversation an hour ago, your opinion would be the complete opposite."

"Ah, but Joshua my good sir, I had my morning coffee so I feel pretty good right now."

"And you used the last of the fucking coffee." I mutter just as someone barges into me. As they continue walking away with no apology uttered, I proceed to flip the bird in his direction with a shout of, "Well fuck you too, arsehole."

"And that's why you don't piss off Josh Franceschi, in my opinion that guy got off lightly. Usually there is a lot more shouting and swearing." I hear a friend of mine, Kate, explain to her group of friends. Kate and I have known each other since secondary school and have remained close friends, we just don't speak as frequently as we used to. Thankfully, she is aware of my generally pissed off-ness. Turning to face her and her friends, I smile sweetly at them.

"Oh no honey, I just dislike the majority of the human race and don't put up with people's shit."

"Don't mind him, it's Monday." Max quickly explains with a chuckle as I continue to shuffle away.

"Monday's diva is pissy and sour." Kate recites, a little thing she made up about me a couple of years ago.

"And that I shall remain, thank you very much." I shout back as I stop and spin around to face the group again.

"Did you guys run out coffee?" She asks with a sigh.

"Possibly."

"Good thing I bought an extra one from the canteen then, here." Grabbing a whit styrofoam cup with steam rising from it, she jogs over with Max and hands me the cup. "Milk and three sugars."

"Oh I do love you, Kate."

"I already knew that, I'm just an amazing friend." She answers with a grin before returning to her giggling group of friends. As Max and I start walking again, I take a sip of the warm beverage and let out a satisfied sigh as I instantly feel slightly better.

"Anyway, as I was saying before you had a hissy fit -"

"The turd deserved it." I grumble, interrupting Max. I take another sip of my coffee, and make a mental note to buy more at the end of the day.

"Regardless," Max sighs. "It's only Monday, what's the worst that could happen?"

"I could finally have breakdown in English because it is the most boring lesson of all time. Mr Evans looks and sounds dead, lessons are never exciting, and it's always the fucking same thing: 'Okay, now write shit and I may or may not mark it'."

"True, but you'll be fine. It's just like every other Monday."

"Every other Monday sucked as well." I mumble as we near our first lesson.

"I honestly don't know how I put up with you."

"Because you love me lots."

"Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that."

----------

Sat at my desk, I feel like crying as the one lesson I dread rolls around: English. Whatever made me pick English as an A level course, I don't know. Maybe I was drunk. The only good thing is that I have Max sat beside me, and Oli is a few desks behind. Still, I would happily slam my head onto the desk with all my might. Repeatedly. And just when things can't get any better, the door opens and my corpse of a teacher walks in. Oh the joy of being taught by a literal zombie.

The register is taken, and already I want to scream because he makes the most simple and mundane task a fucking chore. It takes him a further ten minutes to spout some bullshit about the lesson, something about how we're going to start looking at how to evoke emotion in a reader or something. When he finally stops, hopefully realising how bored the rest of us are, he grabs a whiteboard pen and begins writing on the whiteboard. Once he places his pen down and starts talking, I freeze.

Written on the board in large letters is the word 'fear'.

I have heard and seen that word written hundreds, if not thousands of times. Why now is it making my heart race. Then it starts flooding back. The memories. What happened that night.

How blind I felt.

All I can see is darkness.

The pain.

A stinging sensation from the back of my left calf... a deep cut...roughly throws me onto the floor...cuts into the skin...once...a third time...cuts up my skin...slices...dug into the flesh...unbearable...the pain is horrific...into my stomach...I choke... harder to breathe...blood spilling from my mouth...has hit my lung...

The paralysing fear and helplessness.

I start to panic...to say I am scared is the understatement of the century...panic is really beginning to fill my mind...oh my fucking god I am terrified...I break down...I fear to be the last time...

The sinister voice.

"You better fear me dear, for I am Death."

Everything goes running through my mind at a thousand miles an hour, yet every memory has perfect clarity. Every detail I can remember, every emotion I felt, every word I said. Then I begin to feel similar to how I did that night. My heart won't slow down and my lungs feel as if they are being squeezed, restricting the amount of oxygen I can take in. Like my ribs are closing in around the vital organs, and most of the air has been sucked from the room. I feel sick, and my stomach keeps turning rapidly, almost matching my heart rate. As I struggle to catch my breath, my eyes begin to tear up so I look down at my desk and hide my face behind my hair. My hands, which are sat on top of my desk, are noticeably shaking so I clutch them tightly in my lap to try and stop it, but it doesn't. As my breathing speeds up and my whole body starts to shake, I panic. I don't want to draw attention to myself, but I don't know what to do.

"You finally having that breakdown you prophesied this morning?" Max whispers to me in a joking town. "Are you alright?" He inquires rather worriedly when I don't answer. I feel numerous sets of eyes on me and whispers all around me, but all I can think about is that night. What happened, and now oxygen seems scarce and I can't catch my breath for the life of me.

"Mr Evans, can I please take Josh outside for a moment?" Max asks, to which he receives a reply of yes. "Come on, mate." Max says as he grabs my arm and pulls me up and out of my seat.

"As I was saying, you can make the reader fear for a character if you correctly use the right writing techniques to show that the character is being threatened, whether it be through dialogue or actions. For example, if the writer were to describe in detail how a character is threatened with a knife-"

The knife.

My shaking legs give out and I fall down onto my knees, unfortunately grabbing the attention of everyone in my class. Great, just what I need. Another hand is placed on my shoulder, and I look up to see Oli crouching down beside me looking incredibly concerned.

"Josh, come on breathe. What's wrong?"

"It was so dark." I gasped, clutching my head in my hands and trying to calm down.

"What?"

"They hurt me." I sob as I continue to freak out and panic, the memories never stopping and continuously

"Who did?" Max asks, then shouting for someone to get the nurse. Two sets of footsteps run from the room, and the door bangs against the wall.

"I was so scared." I cry as I bring my knees up to my chest and rest my head on them.

"Josh, you need to breathe. Deep breath in, and then out." Oli tells me, trying to calm be down, but his words aren't sinking in. They are getting lost among the words I spoke that night and the words that...guy spoke. Everything is a mess, and I am oblivious to my surroundings.

"I can't remember his face. I was going to die." I choke out.

Just as the nurse runs in, I black out.
♠ ♠ ♠
ooooooooooOOOOO
drama
Poor Josh
He has Oli and Max though, so it's all good c:

Thoughts?

Thank you to my beta, and to everyone who has commented, subscribed and recommended c:

Title cred: Come One, Come All - All Time Low