The shrieking alarm clock ripped me from a dreamless sleep. 6 AM, time to return to the place where I am supposed to learn and develop into an educated adult. Groaning, I reach out into the darkness, flailing wildly to snooze the endless siren that was now pounding repeatedly into my half-conscious brain. Relief came with a satisfying smack to the snooze button, and I rolled back into sleep. For about 8 minutes. The alarm clock blared again, with a prompt snooze response. The cycle continued until 6:30 where I had no choice but to crawl out from my warm covers that I had retreated to during the night. The school bus would be here soon, and now I had about fifteen minutes to get ready. I methodically dressed myself, shimmying into the same pair of jeans I would wear the entire week as the rest just didn’t feel right. One backpack, hoodie, and pop tart later and I silently left the house. My father had already left for work as he was the earliest riser. My mother would get up and make him breakfast and pack his lunch and return to her own sleep after. Jess wouldn’t be up for another hour as she got to drive herself to school. I never dared ask her for a ride, too embarrassed to subject myself to her denial.

It was still dark as I walked out the door, a chilling breeze crept up my spine and I shuddered, lifting my hood over my head. The bus stop was two houses over as there were four other kids on the street that all waited there. There were two kids already there, an older boy about my sister’s age and a boy in the year ahead of me. I didn’t know their names, and I never asked, the fear of small talk a paralyzing concept. We stood in silence waiting for the headlights of the bus to arrive in the distance. We were the last stop on the street, and some days it was agonizing watching the bus slowly creep towards us, stopping at three or four houses before finally picking us up. I found myself pacing, staring down at a rock under my shoe. Passing it between my feet like a miniature soccer ball until I missed, and it went skittering across the paved road. Out of embarrassment or just plain awkwardness, I tightened the hood around me. I kept staring at the ground as the two boys spoke in whispers. They were brothers, and the older one was asking the younger whether he remembered his lunch box or not. I felt a stab of jealousy at the care the older one showed, a relationship that looked quite different than the one me and Jess shared. I tried to recall the last time she actually asked me how I was in a way that didn’t seem like it was more about her than me. I shook away the thought in frustration as the headlights of the bus freed me from further ruminating. “Good morning boys.” The driver chuckled as she opened the sliding door. All three of us murmured morning back, equally tired responses to her chipper attitude. I collapse into the first seat behind the driver, it was always open as no one wanted to sit in the uncool seat. For me it meant a safe spot to ride, alone, where I usually napped until we got to school. The jumbling axles of the bus as it hit various holes in the road were jarring to most, but to me it felt oddly comforting. I closed my eyes and let sleep take hold again.

As the bus came to a stop I awoke, like my body already knew we were there. Kids shifted past me, unloading into the crowded plaza of the building. One by one I watched them all leave, and I followed suit as the last one off the bus. The doors of the bus closed behind me with a creak, and I had nowhere to go but forward. I could feel my stomach tightening and my throat dry as I melded into the crowd of students. Most gathered in the cafeteria right by the entrance as it served as both a breakfast area and a social space before homeroom. I glanced around at the tables, all full of students. Some I recognized from my year, but most were older than me. The loud voices merged into a roaring tornado of sound, overwhelming my ears. My chest tightened, air becoming harder to come by. I could feel my heart racing a mile a minute and pounding into my ribs. The flat white lights in the ceiling seemed to shift into scorching florescent rays, making my eyes water in pain. The world felt like it was swallowing me whole, and I couldn’t breathe, I need to breathe. Panic flooded my senses, and I couldn’t focus on anything else.

Relief came in the only way I knew, the stairwell. Eyes down, I focused on my feet, carrying me to the sanctuary. On the platform between floors, my heart finally stopped beating out of my chest. Keeling over, hands on my knees, I finally took a long inhaling gulp. My sister’s words already nagging in the back of my head, but the solitary quiet meant more to me now than her perception. Slumping back against the cold painted stone of the wall, I could feel my back sticking to my t-shirt underneath the hoodie. The wall provided a well needed coolness to my body that still felt on fire.

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The door to the second floor swung open with startling speed, and three kids came barreling down the stairs. Leading them was Jack, a kid from my grade who sat two rows over in 6th period history. Jack had a reputation for being the class clown—loud, brash, and constantly making scenes. I tried to avoid him whenever possible. Behind him were Nick and John, twin brothers who trailed him like shadows, living up to their reputation as Jack’s lackeys. I shoved my hands deeper into my hoodie pocket, hoping they’d pass by without noticing me. No such luck. “Making plans in here, are we?” Jack’s voice echoed down the stairwell, that stupid grin already forming on his face. Great. School shooter jokes. Again. Hard enough to make friends as it is with everyone thinking I’m some future school shooter. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, ears burning with humiliation. My first instinct was to tell him to fuck off, but I held back. That would only lead to worse—probably a beating, followed by a lecture at home, my mother pouring hot sauce in my mouth for swearing. I tried to pretend he wasn’t there, but Nick and John, always eager to encourage Jack, chimed in. “Careful, Jack. You might end up on his manifesto.” One of the twins snickered, though I couldn’t tell which one. Jack stepped closer, standing just a foot away from me now. “Maaaaaason. Whatcha dooooooin, Maaaaason?” His voice dripped with mockery, slow and drawn out, designed to get under my skin. I clenched my teeth, trying to hold back the words that desperately wanted to escape. A vein throbbed at my temple. “Go away,” I muttered through gritted teeth, turning toward the stairs to leave. Before I could move, Jack’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, sending a sharp jolt down my arm. His grip was strong, painfully strong. “Hold up, Mason. We’re just messing with you. Why you gotta be so weird?” He turned me back toward him, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m just waiting for the bell,” I mumbled, eyes fixed on the ground. I couldn’t make eye contact, not with Jack, not with the twins. Their shirts became the safest place to stare. “Watch out, the bell might be a signal for him to do something,” one of the twins sneered, and the three of them burst into laughter, cackling like hyenas over their own cruel joke. Jack leaned in closer, throwing an arm over my shoulder. The touch made my skin crawl, burning wherever his arm pressed against me. I tried to shake him off, but he was bigger, stronger. My weak attempt probably looked more like a shiver. His overpowering body spray filled my nostrils, and it took all my willpower not to gag. “Just make sure you go for them and not me when the time comes, right?” Jack said, laughing at his own joke, his grin widening. My fists tightened inside my hoodie pocket. I imagined clocking him, just once. It would feel so good, I thought. But then I’d be the one on the ground, beaten to a pulp. Turn the other cheek, my father’s voice echoed in my mind. Keep the peace. Jack finally let go and stepped back. I looked up, locking eyes with him for the first time. For a brief moment, something flickered in his expression. Was it... empathy? Sympathy? I couldn’t tell. It was there, and then it was gone. “Come on, guys. The bell’s about to ring. I still want a waffle,” Jack said, turning and bouncing down the stairs, Nick and John in tow. I stood there, confused, angry, and alone again, left with nothing but the gnawing anxiety that followed me through every school day. I collapsed to the stairs, sitting on the top of the set leading down to the cafeteria, mind still racing. Tears began to fill my vision, and despite my best attempts to choke them back down, soon began to plop onto the stairs like raindrops. Slowly at first, and then like a stream bursting from a dam, I broke. I couldn’t hold them anymore and soon I was silently bawling, with my brain screaming to get it together before anyone saw the baby in the stairwell. The tears finally seemed to subside as I focused on the puddle at my feet. It was about the size of my fist now and swirling with bubbles. I was watching one of the bubbles pop when something strange happened. In the center of the puddle was the reflection of an eye. At first, I thought it was my own, but then I noticed the color was different. The iris was a shade of ruby red with flakes of silver streaking through them. It was also blinking when I clearly was not. Leaning down for a closer look, I knew I wasn’t seeing things now as it was a clear reflection of someone. A mixture of excitement and fear raced through me, this was in no way normal, and that alone was fantastic! Magic was real? Or was I just hallucinating vividly from the past day of emotion. Before I could do anything else the bell rang, signaling everyone to get to homeroom. I looked down to the puddle, and the eye was gone, replaced with my own reflection. As I sprinted up the stairs, my heart raced, not just from fear but from the thrill of what I had just seen. Was magic really real? Or was my mind finally breaking under the weight of it all?