#theinsanityplays

Those days are harder than others. Those days are when he spends his time reading his books during lunch break, wishing that he could be one of those characters, the ones who make abnormal seem special, magical. The ones where the story has a happy ending and their differences are valued, accepted. Helpful.

He’s sitting at the back of the class like usual, the far corner of the room near the window. It’s raining, dreary and miserable. The pitter patter is comforting, drowning out the voices of the class. His notebook is mostly empty, doodles filling up more of the pages then actual words, when he hears a loud call of his name.  

“Daniel?” his teacher half-shouts. Dan’s head snaps up, eyes that had previously been unfocused now staring at the teacher in front of the class. She looks irritated, as if she’d called Dan’s name multiple times now. Dan bites his lip, glancing at his fellow classmates for some sort of sign as to what the teacher has actually been talking about. He notices the page of the girl sitting closest to him has changed, and he quickly moves it to the right page, a few off from where they had previously been reading.

“Sorry, I- got distracted.”

The teacher looks at him pointedly. “Would you like to come and write Pip’s inner monologue about his apprenticeship on the board?”

Dan feels himself panic, he glances at the girl beside him, who inconspicuously points at the sentence his teacher wants him to write on the board. He sighs, nerves and stress leaving him a little bit. Thank god not everyone in his class are grade A dicks.

He has shitty handwriting, a curse from being left handed. It doesn’t help that today is a particularly bad day. He can feel a slight warmth prickling at his skin, reacting to his feelings. He wills himself to breath, pushing himself up from his desk, and making his way towards the front of the room.

Dan writes the paragraph quickly, the need and want to get back to his seat and back into control much greater than trying to perfect his t’s.

"There have been occasions in my later life (I suppose as in most lives) when I have felt for a time as if a thick curtain had fallen on all its interest and romance, to shut me out from anything save dull endurance any more. Never has that curtain dropped so heavy and blank, as when my way in life lay stretched out straight before me through the newly-entered road of apprenticeship to Joe."

Dan puts down the marker, turning away pleased, seat in sight. The blonde girl smiles at him encouragingly -he owes her a huge thank you- and he can feel the warmth begin to trickle away.

He breaths a sigh of relief, eyes closing as he takes one more step towards his chair. He cocks a smile to her, hopefully coming off somewhat grateful, but when he turns away, he watches the guy sitting beside him get a smug look, eyes glistening with something Dan doesn’t know.

It doesn’t take long to find out. Suddenly a backpack is in front of him, and before he knows it, Dan trips, shoe getting caught on the pack as he takes a steps forwards. He falls down, crashing into the desk to his right. His head hits the corner, a flash of white hot pain shooting straight to his head, and he feels it, the humiliation rushing upon him as quickly as the stabbing pain in his head.

He feels hot, but he can’t focus. The sensation overwhelms him, pain and fear mixing together. And he knows, he knows.

The light erupts from his body in a bright burst. A single, long flash of warm light drowning out all vision in the room.

There’s a scream coming from his right. Dan hears the kids scrambling away from him before he sees it. Panic tightens his chest.  He’s unable to breath as he watches his classmates press against the wall. They stare in shock, one dropping to the ground as though her legs have given out.

Dan doesn’t breathe, air caught in his throat as he scrambles to his feet. His hips bump against the table beside him. He flings forward, towards the door quicker than he ever thought imaginable. He runs, through the corridors, and he doesn’t stop running until the houses all blur past him, and his feet give out from beneath him.