This is it

Droplets of sweat run down my face.

The pounding in my head just won’t go away.

I know my turn is next.

The anxiety has my mind grasped ever so tightly.

It squeezes and squeezes, never letting go.

I panic.

Looking around and around the faces become a blur.

The noise in the classroom gets quiet.

Quieter.

Quieter.

Silent.

It’s only my thoughts and I now.

My mind screams run!

Run now before it’s too late.

But it is too late.

My name is called.

The noise picks back up.

The faces become clearer.

And they are all staring back at me.

My eyes dart to the teacher.

Pleading and begging.

I don’t want to go.

I won’t go.

I repeat the chant as I walk to the front of the room.

It’s no use, my feet betray me.

I’m standing at the front of the room.

All 24 sets of eyes staring at me.

Judging me.

I look once again to my teacher.

How can I express the words?

The words that will set me free.

Away from this nightmare.

I hope she understands.

How can I tell her?

I am too afraid.

What if they laugh?

She doesn’t understand.

It seems like she never does.

This is it.

I look back at the class.

I inhale deeply.

I know what I am going to say.

I have to do this.

I open my mouth.

But the words won’t come out.