Lunch

Heading to lunch, standing in a long line, I'm surrounded by people. I prefer to be last but classes get out at different times and that's just not always a possibility. Someone bumps into me.

"Sorry!"

"No problem..."

It's a problem. I hate it. I hate being near people. I hate being touched by people. It feels like heat penetrating my skin. Like my skin is melting. I can feel my heart beat growing faster and faster, my breathing getting ragged. Eventually, it's my turn to get food. I'm on the "can't afford food" system, whatever it's called, so I get free lunch. Most kids have to pay for it. Today is a serving of chicken nuggets, bread, the usual milk, and an apple. Not a whole lot.

I sit at the corner of a long table. I hate lunch. I hate sitting next to people. I wish I could just sit alone and eat. There's noise coming from everywhere raucous children, barking laughter, sinister giggling, and just general talking. It's deafening. Across from me are two obvious friends. They're having a good time, talking and eating. Reminding me of what I can't. I look over to my side and note the girl sitting next to me. I could never speak with her. I just don't know how other kids do it. It's hard generally speaking but it's even harder because it makes me feel exposed. Talking to them, I begin to remind myself of my monster. I knew my monster before it moved under my bed. I talked to it. I even considered it a friend. It was a human then, though. But it betrayed me. Became a monster. What if the girl sitting next to me is a monster, too? What if she knows about my monster? What if she doesn't and, talking to her, I expose my disgusting little secret?

No, I can't talk to her. I can't talk to anyone. I eat my lunch in silence, plug my ears, and wait for the bell to ring. That's all I can do. All I can do this lunch and all I can do any lunch.

Eventually, the bell rings and it's recess. All the kids rush out to play except for me. Me, I slowly walk to the field, sit in a corner shaded by an overgrown tree with many long, thin hanging branches, and watch. I watch the kids play. Having no friends because of my monster, there isn't any playing for me to do. So I sit, play with the dirt and grass, and watch. Eventually recess is over and I trudge my way back to the classroom.

Once again, I can't focus. Thankfully, this teacher is less mindful of me. She'll let me put my head down and just rest. I think she knows. She's much nicer than Miss Ramsey and generally lets me do what I want. I don't get in trouble for staring, I don't get in trouble for looking at my desk, I don't get in trouble for resting my head or eyes, I don't get in trouble for not knowing the answers, and so on. There's no pressure on me, which is good because I once again cannot focus. My entire period is spent vividly picturing the monster living under my bed. Obsessing over it.

That's how all of my time is spent.

Eventually, the bell rings and it's time to leave class.

"Robin, can I speak with you?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I noticed you weren't participating in class today. Is something wrong?" She knows. She knows. She knows.

"No, Ma'am." Yes. There's a monster under my bed.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, Ma'am." No, I'm not.

"You'd tell me if something is wrong, right?"

"Yes, Ma'am." No, I wouldn't.

"Okay. Have a nice day, Robin!"

"You too!" I give her a natural smile. Fake but natural. After doing it for long enough it comes to you with ease. It's time to walk home.