Chapter 2

Elliot paused for a second before standing up and staying where he stood. “Just about your condition... that you might not be too open to the class for a while and make sure you're comfortable with the distance between the students.” He said and rubbed the back of his neck. “We're still a little confused about how to be around you…”

I shook my head. “It's fine. I'm not planning to be that interactive this semester…” I said, pausing for a second before glancing over at him. “I don't want to go in yet.”

“That's fine. I'll go in with you when you're ready.” He said and watched me closely. “So how long have you had this condition?”

I glanced over at him and stood up to take a step away from him. “Almost two years... I think… It kind of built up to it a few years before that, so kind of like five years.” I answered.

I wasn't too comfortable discussing my haphephobia, but I can answer a few basic questions about it since a lot of people are always curious and I knew I should share some information.

He nods as he thinks about my answer and slowly holds his hand out toward me. “Let's be friends? I'll help you as much as you want to let me and I am very patient so you don't have to worry if you think I'm bothered or anything.” He tells me. “I took AP psychology and I am planning to be a therapist... Not that I think you're a test subject but I just wish I can help you if you want to be helped…”

I look at his hands before slowly reaching out to shake it. “You do know that that sounded kind of rude..” I tell him, a little annoyed by his introduction. “And a simple handshake doesn't always frighten me…”

He pressed his lips together as he quickly let go of my hand after I touched it and blushed. “Sorry. I kind of realized that as well after I said it... I didn't mean it like that…” he apologized.

“It's fine... I know what you're trying to say. It’s great that you want to be a therapist, but I think I could use a friend more instead.” I said as I clutched my hands into fist slightly and looked over again at the door that was still open.

“She's going to always leave that door open for you... in case you feel closed off in the classroom or want to leave first or last.” He explained. “We weren't too sure if you were comfortable with opening doors either.”

I pressed my lips together trying to breathe through my nose as I listened to him. “I would rather be the last person to leave the room right now... I don’t do well in crowds either.” I tell him as I slowly walk towards the door. “Where am I going to sit?”

“We left you two seats to choose from... one in the back of the room and the other is in the front right next to the teacher desk.” He said as he walked beside me.

I thought about this for a second: the back sounds safe yet I have to walk past people every morning and it'll be a hassle to walk around everyone while I can just easily enter the classroom to sit right away but once the class is over everyone has to walk past me. The thought of them hovering over me is overwhelming. It made me feel sick, but I wanted to change this school year and not pick the easy way. I took a deep breath as I walked to the door, being able to see the teacher writing on the whiteboard and paused when she saw me standing there. She smiled softly, trying to welcome me, and I glanced back at Elliot wanting to make sure that he was coming in with me. I can do this; I tell myself repeatedly in my head as I slowly begin to walk inside keeping my head down trying to walk over to the front desk that Elliot told me about. It was in the far left corner of the room and it didn't seem that bad to sit at, but walking towards it felt so long and that pounding feeling in my chest continues to make me feel uncomfortable.

“See, it's okay.” He whispers as he watches me and I heard the teacher continuing her lesson.

“It's not,” I told him as I still kept my head down trying to calm myself.

I wanted to focus on the lecture but my mind was still somewhere else. I covered my face as I’m leaning against my arm on the table and tried to take deep breaths. I was able to hear a pause in the lecture, maybe they were watching me cautiously, and a few people mumbling the teacher continued with her lesson. Maybe they’re waiting for a reaction from me because of the way my body language shouts discomfort and possibly they were unsure of what to do if I had an outburst.

“You want to go back to the hall?” Elliot whispers.

I shook my head, but I do want to leave the room and leave the school to crawl back to my bed where it was safe. Running back towards the hallway where it was empty, where there wasn't a room full of people staring at you like they didn't know how to handle you, and hoping to remove these thoughts of hands scratching deep in my throat because you're starting to feel isolated. My whole body tensed up as I felt this heavy feeling drop in the pit of my stomach that I knew what was going to come next. It was my nerves finally coming at me after having it all balled up after waking up this morning.

“I'm going to throw up.” I mumbled.

“What?” Elliot asked as he leaned in closer to hear me better.

“I need to go,” I said, covering my mouth as I stood up to run back out of the hall.

Everything was blurry as I returned to the comfort of the empty hall and Elliot suddenly came in front of me with a trash can in his hands. I took it as I instantly vomited inside it while trying to be quiet about it and the last thing I needed was for the class to hear me throwing up as I humiliated myself even more. I felt Elliot tug at my long sleeve signaling me to follow and I did after I was done. He led me down the hall to the restroom and held the door open for me. I was breathing heavily as I still gripped the trash can waiting to see if there was anything else for me to vomit; which wasn’t too much since I haven’t had a full meal since yesterday afternoon. Elliot turned the water for me so I could wash and I let the water splash my face hoping that the cool feeling can help ease me.

“I can't go back there… I shouldn't have gone inside.” I told him as I reached for a paper towel to wipe my face.

“What was so bad that it made you sick?” He asked, confused.

“They were staring. I felt them all staring at me and it felt suffocating because I’m trying to not let my mind feel like the walls were closing in on me.” I try to explain with my voice rising a little as I’m feeling my anxiety spilling out and I clutched my hands together. “I just want everything to stop.”

"Michael, breathe slowly,” Elliot said, reaching out to grab my shoulder because I was already shaking.

When I saw his hand coming towards me I could only pull myself away from him and stumbled a little trying to catch myself. “Don't touch me!”

Elliot raised his hands to show that they weren't near me taking a step back seeing my hostile reaction. “I won't. I'm sorry.”

I slowly kneeled down towards the dirty floor as I tried to fight off my tears. "Just not right now.”

Elliot watched me as I quietly cried for a couple of minutes while we both didn't say anything and it was just silence between us. It took me a couple of minutes to finally calm down but he kept his distance from me until we heard a small knock on the door and Elliot glanced over at me before stepping out leaving me alone. I wiped my face with the sleeve of my shirt and Elliot came back standing slightly at the doorway like he was worried that he might overstep my boundaries again.

“Do you want them to call your mom?” He asked.

I thought about this for a second before nodding deciding that I couldn’t stay for the rest of the day. “Yeah, I want to go home,” I answered.

Elliot left again after hearing my response and after some time he came back. “They said I should stay with you until she arrives.” He tells me as he cautiously stands by the door.

I nod as I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

We were quiet again before Elliot spoke. “What was going through your mind?" He asked me curiously. “You sat down for a second and that made you sick.”

I shook my head as I tried to find the words to explain before I finally turned to him. “The things I feel... Everyone…” I tried to say before giving up and tried to find a new way to explain it. “You know that feeling when you don’t know how to swim and you feel the floor beneath you until suddenly it's gone. That comfort feeling that you can stand suddenly feels like you're drowning and you can’t breathe anymore because you're beginning to panic as if your throat is being squeezed making it hard for you to breathe. It feels like no one is going to save you…” I tell him. “And you see their hands wanting to help you but your eyes only see them as pushing you down deeper into the shallow water…”

After I said those words it was quiet again between us and I wiped away my tears.

“I don’t know if that makes sense… Maybe I didn’t explain it well.” I said as I turned away from him and I rubbed my forehead feeling a headache. “I'm so tired of it.”

“Michael…” Elliot opened his mouth before closing it like he didn't know what else to say.

“You don't have to pretend to be my friend anymore. It's obvious that you're only watching over me because they asked you.” I tell him.

“I wasn't pretending. I meant it when I said that I want to be friends.” He said, quickly. “I just didn't know that that's how you felt... the fact that you've been struggling like that for so long…”

“Yeah, struggling for what? I’m going to be like this for the rest of my life. How long am I going to let myself be trapped like this?” I told him, feeling angry now. “Do you know how horrible I feel hearing my mom cry every time I have an episode like today. I hate seeing her struggle as much as I hate myself.”

Elliot reached out to me before he slowly lowered his hands. “You can't say that about yourself,” he says.

“Why not? It's true. And please don't start with the whole ‘you can get past this’, ‘you'll get better’. All of that is bullshit.” I tell him.

“Michael,” Elliot called my name, sounding a little disappointed.

“What? I've heard it so many times. I tried getting help but nothing works and I'm so sick of those therapists acting like they know my struggle.” I said as I felt my face growing hot with anger. "They don't. How can they even know what I'm going through if you don't understand it.”

“Michael, what happened to you that made you like this?” Elliot asked as he reached his hand out again and slowly held my arm.

I froze as I looked at his hand. “Let go," I said quietly before I tried to shake my arm out of his hold. “Let go of me.”

“You can tell me and maybe I can help,” he asked as he kept his hold on me.

“Stop! Please, let go.” I said with my voice rising, and I still try to fight against his hold.

“Not until you calmed down.” He retorts.

I felt my chest tighten as I pulled my arm away with my whole body before feeling out of breath again. “No! Don't touch me!" I said, beginning to yell. “Stop!”

With the last strength that I had in me, I pulled my arm out of his hold and I stumbled back falling to the ground backing away from him; afraid that he'd grab me again. The door swung open as Ms. Lang entered to see the commotion and it must not have been a good sight to see because she had a furious expression as she looked from me to Elliot. She asked Elliot to step out and left me alone until my mom arrived. It took me a couple of minutes to step out of the bathroom and to walk down the hall avoiding anyone’s gaze. After finally stepping out of the school grounds and sitting comfortably in my mom's car; I finally let myself cry again. I cried as my mom wrapped her arms around me and I know that I didn’t do my best as I wanted.

“I'm sorry.” I finally said between tears as she let go of my head.

“Honey, you don't need to apologize,” she tells me.

“But I wanted to do this. I wanted to go in and have a normal day, but I couldn't.” I said between tears. “Why can't I do this?”

My mother shook her head as she brushed her fingers over my cheeks to wipe my tears. “The world out there isn't as dangerous as it was before. I wish you could see that someday,” she tells me, softly. “You just need to find a way to accept everything that's happened to you.”

I shook my head, “I don't think I can. How can I when I remember everything that happened? I relive it every day.”

I can hear my mom cry and I hugged her this time. “I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault,” I tell her.

“But I wasn't there for you. I left and have all that happened to you,” she said between tears. 

“Mom, you're here now. I don't blame you for any of this. I forgive you.” I told her and I know deep down I had blamed her, but not for what happened that changed me.