I thought I was going to explode. The clattering of the pencils, the bouncing of the legs, the endless tick of the clock. I couldn’t do it; I had to do it, needed to do it.
The test stared up at me, mocking me with its knowledge I clearly didn’t repress. The words jumbled together, switching, gliding, flying all across the page. Never staying still so I can understand them.
I glance up, nothing changed. Still the same clock, same students hurriedly writing, same teacher endlessly checking her email.
My eyes burned with tears I knew I couldn’t let pass. It’s all the same, day after day. I just can’t get it right, I try and try and try but I never reap what I sew. Teachers and cheerleaders look down on me, the see my black cloths and hair and judge based on appearances. They don’t know the troubles going on deep inside me, the endless battle with my mind.

I don’t know what to do so I hide under a sea of black waiting for that one day when I’ll understand, when I’ll no longer be afraid of these tests, these teachers and students. But that day’s not today and I’m still afraid.