Hey!
So, I challenged myself to write something in present tense (since I mostly write in past tense) and this is what resulted. I'd really like some critique on this, since I'm not too sure about it. Any help is appreciated!
(I should also add a trigger warning for homophobia, just in case.)
-----
As I compel myself to walk into the dreary, claustrophobic building, I attempt to calm myself by taking deep breaths. Despite my best efforts, the anxiety coursing through my body makes even the simple act of breathing difficult.
Breathe, Hannah, I tell myself.
You can do this.
My shaky legs carry me unsteadily past countless people as I walk towards my locker. I can feel their judgemental and bitter stares on me as I pass by them. Although most of them are people I have known for several years now, I am unable to look anybody in the eye because, quite frankly, I am terrified of what they might say.
Shame flows through me as I realise that this is how it will be now that people know.
Why me? I ask myself for the hundredth time this morning.
Why can't I just be normal?
A better person wouldn't let this bother them. Why can't I at least be like that?
Why am I so full of self-hatred?
A piercing, unapologetic voice rips me from my thoughts and reminds me why I didn’t want to come to school today.
One word; that’s all it takes, and I am instantly thinking of ways to disappear from this earth.
"Dyke."
I freeze. I don't even need to turn around to see who it is, for I'd recognise that voice anywhere; the voice of my ex-best friend. The one I told everything to, not knowing she would, in turn, decide to tell everyone else what I thought would be just between us.
"What’s the matter, Hannah? Cat got your tongue?"
My plan to continue walking and ignore her cruel taunts is ruined when she grabs me fiercely by my hair and slams me into the wall.
"I was talking to you," she growls in my ear. "Or can queers like you not hear properly?"
"Leave me alone, Beth."
My voice sounds weak even to my own ears. I can only imagine what it must sound like to others.
"Leave me alone," she mocks, and I am almost in tears. “Why should I? People like you shouldn’t be here.”
I am speechless, so I look down at the floor in the futile hope that she will get bored and decide I’m not worth it.
"Hey, back off," a voice behind her shouts.
Before I even realise what's happening, someone has pried Beth away from me and shoved her to the ground, to the interest of the crowd of people watching the whole incident. Not missing a beat, a hand grips my own and drags me into the nearest classroom. Locking the door behind us, my rescuer turns to me and speaks softly.
"Are you okay?"
It is someone I do not recognise, though that does not make me any less grateful. The genuine concern shown on her lovely face gives me the feeling that this person is different to everyone else at my school. That is, that she is not a self-absorbed jerk, but a kind individual, instead.
"I'm -"
I am about to tell her "I'm fine", before deciding to be sincere.
"I'm not really okay, no."
I attempt to shrug it off, but fail as melancholy creeps into my voice.
“I was worried something like that would happen if people found out I was gay, but I never really thought it would be my best friend who would say things like that, you know?”
"Is there anything I can do?" she asks.
"Not unless you can make everyone suddenly not-homophobic," I laugh bitterly.
She looks at me sadly, a wistful smile on her face.
"I really wish I could. I’m sorry."
"It’s okay. What you did out there was brave, and, well, thank you."
"I was just doing the right thing."
There is silence for a moment as I struggle to think of something thrilling to add to the conversation, and I can sense that she is about to leave the classroom to go to registration.
"I'm Hannah," I blurt out, needing her to know my name for some inexplicable reason.
She smiles, then, properly this time. It causes her entire face – including her hazel eyes - to light up.
"I'm Abby."
She pauses.
"Say, I don't suppose you could show me where Room 13 is? I was supposed to be there – oh,” she glances at the watch on her delicate wrist, “- about ten minutes ago."
"It's possible I might know where that is, considering I should be there myself," I respond jokily.
"Then lead the way, Hannah," she requests, linking her right arm with my left.
As we are about to leave, I hesitate.
"We probably shouldn't walk through the halls with our arms touching. People will talk, and I'm sure you don't want rumours spreading before you've even finished your first day here."
"After what happened out there, people will talk no matter what we do. You just have to try not to let it bother you as much. If they have nothing better to do than gossip about who you’re attracted to and who you aren’t, then they’re not worth even thinking about. Besides, I'll be there if anyone tries to bother you again."
She smiles at me reassuringly, and I find myself slowly becoming addicted to the way her face lights up when she does so.
As we walk to class together, arm in arm, I think to myself that maybe something good can come out of this mess of a place after all.
----
Gender:
Points: 1976
Reviews: 16