25: Bound and Broken
Logan
I sit in my third-period class, the teacher at the front of the room lecturing us on something I’ve lost track of the second she began speaking.
My thoughts are a cacophony of noise I can’t seem to shut off. I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my temple as a headache blooms.
I try breathing slowly, but my emotions are on the fritz after the encounter with Amy. Every time I talk to her, I’m sent into a black abyss that’s difficult to get out of. I have no idea how or why I stayed with her for so long.
She’s like a mosquito you swat at a dozen times, only for it to come back for more blood each time. And being with her makes you itch all over, just like a mosquito bite.
I sigh into my textbook, no longer aware of my surroundings. I vaguely hear a few kids around me speaking about one thing or another, whispering across the short divide between the rows of desks.