[Y]P[M]G

//

Your tummy was excruciating and you just couldn't find it in yourself to tolerate it and get yourself up from the floor.

You no longer cared if the floor was dirtied by several footsteps and more, you just needed to lie down on something.

"Someone call a teacher!"

"I- I didn't mean to really knock him out like that! I didn't hit that hard!"

"Quick! Run!"

Your kept hearing voices and other sounds of your surroundings for as long as your brain can still register, but soon enough, your brain would slowly not realize your own thoughts anymore, at least not anymore coherently, as your mind throbs and draws closer to a blank wall.

You're passing out. You're in school, in public, and you're passing out. You're falling asleep again. You've crumbled in front of everyone.

But even if you feel downcast or utterly humiliated, your mind anyway continues to ache a wrong kind of pain earned.

You feel like a mess. Your face hurts so bad. You feel like groaning and vomiting again. Your gut hurts really badly. You probably don't even have any guts.

As always, you're tempted and lulled towards the pits of exhaustion, defenselessly engulfed in the dim caves of slumber.

"...Yes...L-... wh-...'s... he...?"

"H...ere... Ma'am... saw them..."

You know those voices were there, but then you didn't know. You were no longer certain. Maybe those were in your head.

Maybe you're starting to dream funny things that your brain tries to make up and throw at you as it flickers in and out of consciousness.

As the world grew foggier and fuzzier, you made out a girl bringing a teacher to the situation... No, a boy, he's wearing the boys' uniform... Whatever, you didn't know anymore. You didn't even know what the teacher said in response to the scene.

Wait, what's happening...?

You didn't even realize when your mind fully blacked out.

You love sleeping. You like to rest. It makes you look lazy like a sloth, and maybe it does. But sleep tends to feel quiet and peaceful.

Like drawing. Drawing whatever you want to is quiet, save for the peaceful scribbling of the pencil and the gentle wrinkling of paper. And maybe the rubbing of eraser, or the brushing away of eraser remnants with your hand.

"Time for dinner, Drew... Wow, are those your drawings? They look beautiful, Drew."

You would remember just drawing on your bed, enjoying the doodles you make up. No one to disturb you, as you immerse yourself in the fantasies of your illustrations, and the relaxing atmosphere lulls you towards sleep, right there in your designated comfort zone, your warm bed.

"People will be amazed at your drawings, I'm sure. They'd see how special you are and be proud of you like your dear mother is..."

And your mother would wake you gently for dinner, complimenting your drawings as a loving mother would in the process, kissing your forehead and gently nudging your shoulder...

"...Alright, come on, then, Drew. Wake up, my dear, time to eat..."

...

"...Come now... wake up, Drew..."

Your eyes slowly flutter open.

Your eyelids made quite the feeble effort, taking their time to lift, steady and unhurried, tranquil even.

An unfamiliar ceiling. A bright one, at that.

You wince with a weak instinctive hum, eyes shutting tight again as if to shield from the assaulting lights, then slowly and carefully flutter open again.

Though each effort came with an involuntary blink as defense from the ceiling lights that wouldn't go away, that you would have to adjust to its presence hung above your head.

Your back rests on a soft white bed. You hear beeping from your side, the sound feeling oddly eerie yet serene. There's a throbbing in your head, paired with a heavy fuzziness overcoming it. There were a few bandages on your face, though your face still felt wrong.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/85495321/chapters/225856646

Have you ever been insensitively pranked by your whole class, and even your teacher was in on it?

[A peek at the prologue of Elementary’s Dunce Kid, an interactive story featuring my OCs that I wrote for school one time !!!]

“…Aaaand that will be all for today. Goodbye and thank you, class!”

Wait, class ended? Since when!? What was the lesson again?

As soon as you heard your teacher's voice, every other sound began returning to your ears as well. The hum of the classroom's air conditioner, the quiet, childlike snickers from a few of your classmates, and the scribbling of pencils on school notes or scratch paper.

You look up to see what's happening, maybe a sight of the teacher leaving, and... did the lights turn back on? No, they were never off. But you can't really remember.

Your throat feels a little dry and your mind feels fuzzy. What's more, the entire class had their gazes fixed on you, including the teacher, who was not at all even a step near the door.

The experience felt like a sudden shock that soon transfigured into humiliation, confusion morphing into embarrassment.

Most of your classmates began snickering more, until they eventually burst into laughter, as the teacher merely had an unimpressed, disappointed look on his face.

"Morning, Drew. Did you enjoy your nap?" a boy sneers.

"I can't believe it worked! Look how confused he is!" a girl points and laughs. "He really thought class was dismissed!"

The teacher crosses his arms, unfazed by all the laughter. "I did wonder, Drew. Did you have a nice nap?"

You blink back tears that threaten to prick from the growing shame. It would feel more humiliating if you cried right now in front of everyone due to a mere prank, which you probably deserved.

"Perhaps if you didn't sleep so often in my class, you would understand the lesson and know when to hand in your homework on time, wouldn't you think so, Drew?" the teacher adds dryly.

"Oooohh..." many of your classmates chorus.

Do you just sit there in dumbfounded silence, or do you nervously force yourself to chuckle along?

The teacher sighs. "If you're not interested in my class, you're free not to attend at all. I won't force you, Drew. That goes for the rest of you, too, class."

His tone grew sharper and louder at that last sentence, causing the students' laughing and teasing to die down gradually.

You had a feeling what he said was also part of his sarcasm, despite his worded 'assurance' of permitting students not to even attend if uninterested.

You glance down to your desk filled with doodles and a pencil, desiring to sink in your seat.

Curved, messy strands of your dark hair draped over your vision mildly like curtains, but not even your messy hair stops you from noticing how your doodles have been vandalized by little messages like, 'Hi, Drew, you were asleep lol,' or 'Classmate A was here,' or 'DUMB DUNCE DREW,' or 'Drooling dunce Drew who drew his drawings,' or even a doodle of that poop emoji.

Definitely from some of your classmates when you were asleep.

"Kids..." The teacher sighed again, finally making his way to the door. "Anyway, goodbye and thank you again, class. Really."

You didn't even look up to greet the teacher back, like the other kids afterwards did. You didn't look at anyone, forcing your head down, as they all probably have those cheeky, taunting grins on their faces.

Well, maybe not all of them, since you did see some kids not laughing along, like that one wavy-haired kid who watched with genuine worry and this other kid not even paying atttention to your whole embarrassing moment. Either way, you were still humiliated in front of everyone.

Just your luck as the class dunce?

The bell rings. It's Lunchtime, which meant mandatory evacuation to the school canteen, even though you now felt like staying somewhere else less populated.

You begrudgingly got up from your seat.

In contrast to the comfortable air-conditioned classroom, the school canteen felt humid and public, its location closely intact with the outdoors. All sorts of fifth graders ate together, ran around, laughed, screamed, tripped, and the like.

There you stood, the simple fifth-grade student lost in the headlights of the public youth, the society of a dozen other fifth-graders. People. Peers.

Do you plan to have yourself embarrassed again in front of the majority of your peers?

Or maybe this is your second chance to show them how you're not the one with the reputation of the school dunce? Maybe prove that whole thing earlier was a minor blooper?

You have to walk in there anyway, to eat your lunch and all.

Ugh, fifth grade. Elementary.

Go check out the Intro already, it's probably cool.

https://www.wattpad.com/1604367597?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_reading&wp_page=reading&wp_uname=user83970562

Bonus comic of their interaction:

Maybe I should draw photobomb next hmmm decisions decisions 👀 🤔

The oneshot is titled, “Small Bleeding Heart” or “Lou, The Gentle Boy In Wavy Locks,” which can be found on both Wattpad (by my username [Y]P[M]G or user83970562) and AO3 (my username being y_pmg1).

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61482391

https://www.wattpad.com/1526944154?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_reading&wp_page=reading&wp_uname=user83970562

I promise it’s worth reading, maybe it would even resonate with you, wrote this in high school tho so it might be corny and expectedly flawed

“Sorry, ano po, I will visit the restroom po muna saglit.”

“DI PWEDE! BAWAL ANG MGA TANGA SA MUNDO!”

And then Mari is Mari.