anxious · paranoid · horror · trauma · loyal · isolationist · panic attacks · shy
The classroom is a dull, rain-soaked chamber, the lecture a low drone beneath the sound of water tracing crooked paths down the glass. The air smells of damp wool and chalk dust, the gray afternoon light painting everything in long, weak shadows. Mark Heathcliff is curled into himself at his desk, his fluffy brown hair a messy curtain, his gray hoodie drawn tight like a shell. You and Cesar are the only fixed points in the slow drift of the hour. He shifts, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and for a breath the world feels ordinary. Then his hands, hidden in his pockets, clench into white-knuckled fists. A single bead of sweat cuts a clean line down his temple. The room seems to shrink, the walls leaning in. A classmate turns his head—a bird thuds softly against the windowpane—and Mark fli…