The next morning a nasty headache occurred me, it was as painful as if someone was repeatedly beating down my temples with a hammer. Nothing was really out of the ordinary, my sleeping schedule was always a mess, and more than often the effects would have subsided within some hours.
To top if off, together with the hammer, the blues hit me hard the moment I threw aside my blanket and rolled out of my bed.
As I sat to hate my breakfast, my gut spoke to me. Owing to my tiredness and something to do with last night, It told me to miss out the lectures and stay home lest making a fool out of myself was in my plans. Albeit I endeavoured to stand up to it, my gut took the upper hand and without a second thought I refrained from going to class.
Thinking about occupying myself with a book or studying beforehand for an upcoming test, I bid my time in the shower. Upon drying my body off, the mirror above the sink drew awkwardly my attention. I walked over to it to clean it off just enough to see my reflection. What my eyes saw in the glass blew my mind in a completely negative sense: I couldn’t tell whether the person in front of me was just a tremendously tired dude down on his luck or Frankenstein’s spawn. Those sunken eyes, a product of my lack of sleep, the disproportionate aquiline nose (as it appeared in the mirror) and the leftovers of the red scars that I bore in my early teens complemented the figure of this monster who went by the name of Allison. It was a shocking revelation, nothing seemed to matter to me anymore and I began to get it into my head that thus far, my classmates and everyone around me deluded me into believing I was somehow acceptable by beauty standards. Just as the realization of this struck me like a lightning bolt, a deep urge to throw up rose within me, then I turned my eyes away from the mirror and charged to my room. Unwilling to come to terms with it, I threw myself on the bed and tried to soffucate myself with my pillow to no avail. How could I fail to notice how ugly I had truly been? Had I just shrugged it off and carried on with life? Was I always this revolting or did my ugliness progressively build up day by day? All these sorts of thoughts ran through my mind, culminating in an intense obsession about my outward appearance. Warm tears started to trickle down my cheek and before noon I fell prey to despair. I would have rather considered ripping my face off with my own hands than stepping out of the doorway once again, only to be met with the condescending gazes of people, who made great efforts not to shatter my beliefs.
My heartbeat rate increased as I plopped down on my bed, each breath was accompanied by a surge of fear, and the and the plain action of drawing in and exhaling air became an agony. Terror, it was terror itself I was facing alone in my room. I should have gotten used to it, I should have been stronger, but confiding in someone was out of question.
All of a sudden someone’s words flashed through my mind. In an attempt to recall who these words belonged to, my long term memory failed me. I ventured in the depths of my mind to bring the memory to surface, but the unsettling haze confused me and sent me on a wild goose chase. A jumble of muddled memories dating back to my childhood and middle school years rushed through my mind, the haze gradually diminished by the second and at last I found the one memory I was looking for.
It was Miss Dallanger who spoke those words to me, it was her who sat and had a word with me for the first time in three years, it was her who adressed me in a casual and friendly manner at school. I sprung out of bed and turned on my laptop, tapping nervously with my fingers on the desk as I waited for the operating system to load. Once it was ready to run applications, I hastily opened a new webpage, entered my school website’s address and went straight to the staff directory page. There was Miss Dallanger’s number, I slid my phone over to me and tried to dial the number, but fear struck me once more, then I burst into tears again. It took me some minutes to dry my tears and muster up my courage in order to hold a respectable conversation through the phone. Eventually I overcame my anxiety and slowly dialed the number. The time was 3 PM, I figured out she’d be home, and if she wasn’t it was no skin off my nose.
“It’s going to be alright, it’s going to be alright, it’s going to be alright...” I whispered to myself on hearing the dial tone, then Miss Dallanger’s voice came through my phone speakers.
“Hello?” As she started to speak, another wave of paning swept over me and I emited a series of low sobs instead of a reply.
“Hello? Who’s on the other end of the line?” Miss Dallanger asked with an hint of concern in her voice, and before she could get any more worried I gathered my wits and asnwered.
“Miss-” my sentence was interrupted by a short whimper “Miss!” I cried out in between sniffs and sobs.
“Galvan, is that you? Are you alright?” She asked.
“I don’t think so. I can’t even breathe, I mean-”
“Oh dear, that sounds rough.” After a brief pause she went on “Listen, have you tried the 4-7-8 breathing technique?”
“Not at all… I’m shaking and I can’t even leave my house...”
“Your first concern is regaining your composure. Calm down, we’ll see this trough together, alright? Now, first things first, inhale through your mouth and your nose and count to four. Hold your breath for seven seconds and exhale the air through your mouth.”
I did as I was told and when I breathed out my heartbeat rate began to slow down.
“Better?” She asked.
“A bit.” I answered.
“Let’s keep this going. Are you ready?”
“Yeah.” I said and repeated the cycle until I loosened up, then told her “Miss, I think I’m feeling fine now.”
“Would you like me to reach out a helpline?”
“No Miss, please don’t call anyone!” I cried out in a last moment of fear.
“Very well, is there anything you’d like to ask?”
“At the moment I’d rather talk to you in person, can we arrange a brief meeting in the staff room?”
“Of course, dear.”
“How about tomorrow at break?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Miss, thanks a milion.”
“You’re welcome!” She said. “Feel free to talk to me any time.”
“Hmmm.”
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, alright? Take care.”
“Goodbye.”
Soon after hanging up, I forced myself to work on my assignments and when I was done I went outside to take a breath of fresh air. Bathing myself in the afternoon sunlight, my breast was infused with a strange warmth that was of an unknown origin to me. A new, bright light was shed where darkness blocked the sight of my surroundings and before long I discerned that warm and fuzzy feeling without strain. It was the sort of happiness I had never tasted troughout my life, for the first time I wished something would have never met an end as my cheerful walk continued. Even for me life had its gleams of sunshine.