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The rest of yesterday passed by in a blur and once again I was standing at the door of SS3 block, the sun glaring down at me from where it sat high in the blue sky. With a sharp intake of breath, I walked into the lockeroom. All the hustle and bustle of students stopped, the chatter dwindling to complete silence as everyone turned to look at me. And for once, they didn't look away.

Discomfort brewed in my belly as I stood, frozen in place. The saliva in my mouth thickened. I fiddled with my bag strap, my heart thudding so hard in my chest as I began to feel my white shirt stick to my back. The need to wash still rubbed me up and down , pools of blood forming shadows along my periphery that always disintegrated whenever I turned to look. All I could see was pity.

  Exhaling shakily, I took a step forward but their whispers and eyes thwarted the little courage i had mustered.

This is what you've always wanted, right? To be the centre of attention?

I clenched my fist as the whisper of murder began to roam through the crowd. I huffed, resuming my trot. The icky taste of undigested food settled in my throat as I strode through the parting crowd with my eyes on the floor. The burn of their gazes intensified the revulsion that shook my belly. I took a sharp right which led to the female toilet, the black and white tiles sparkled as the stretch of white of white stalls beside me were completely silent.

Without a second thought, I ran towards one of the stalls before locking myself in it. My breathing ragged, the pungent smell of the blood soaking my nostrils from the memory. I fell to the floor, gripping the ceramic seat before I retched. The pungent  smell of puke assailed my nostrils, my throat reeling from the ache as my stomach continued to constrict. As soon as I was done, I walked out on lead legs, the cool air from the ACs  quelled the acrid taste that filled my mouth a little bit. I walked to the sink and splashed some cool water on my face then I looked at the mirror, studying myself.

I had always avoided mirrors, I never liked what stared back at me whenever I did. I had lost most of my cheek fat, shadows stretched underneath my eyes and my lips had already gained a sag, the darkish red of my bottom lip now almost looking pale. As the sound of the bell came through, I exited the toilet.

I took my time walking to my class, feeling the familiar anxiety fill me but accompanied now were the stares that made me self conscious.

With the quickening of my breath, I walked towards my seat before settling down. Mrs Okoli, our English teacher, walked in, her face twisted in a usual frown as she peered at us from black rimmed glasses. Everybody rose up to greet her and she bade us to sit down with a wave of her hand.

"Good morning everyone. So, I believe you have all gotten the literature text that I asked you to procure. Now today, since we have ended phonetics, we would officially start reading the literature text, A NEW BEGINNING. So would anyone here like to volunteer themselves to read the first chapter before I call someone out myself." The class was silent and what I heard next made my heart stop.

"Zara! Would you come up front?" Like that she could have just said she was plotting my demise as I felt my heart fail. I gulped as I made my way to the front, head banging as I locked my clammy hands together in a tight clasp. As soon as I walked onto the podium, I felt my knees quake. The intimidating look she gave made me gulp harder.

"Ma, I don't actually have the lite-"

"You'll use mine." She pointed at the desk on the podium and the book was right there. I walked to it with leaden feet and breathed out harshly. A quiet had descended over the class, all the back benchers that wouldn't usually pay attention now looking at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to do something.

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