Who are you?

I am gripping my backpack, hoping that the tighter I squeeze, the further I will get from this school. I don’t know these people, and I want nothing to do with them. I don’t know who you are, and why you are stopping me at the door. Your grin scares me, and I don't know why. You look like me, my height, my expressions. But something is strange about you. 

Who are you?

My first class was a nightmare. My sweaty palms left imprints on my desk as I lethargically lifted myself out of my chair. Answering the teacher’s nosy questions, I wiggled my toes, hoping that I could magically disappear. And there you were, shoving me back into my chair, choking me, forcing me to remain silent. You prevented me from answering. I wanted to talk to people. I wanted to make friends. But you hated that. You had to be my only friend. If that's the right word.

Who are you?

A punch in the gut right before P.E. I wonder what makes you do the things you do. I struggle with my locker, tugging it hard to get it open. The others stare at my greasy face and shaking knees as I run to the basketball courts with the rest of the class. You steal the ball, tackling me to the ground as I screech in shock. Laughs fill the humid air, but you just stand there. You just stand there, pushing tears out of my eyes. 

Who are you?

Lunch was frightful. I tried sitting with a group of classmates, but you dragged me over to an empty table. I tried to smile at kids at the table nearby, but you glared at me with your fiery eyes. You dropped my cold pizza on the floor, and spilled my milk all over my backpack. I can not understand why you must torture me so. Just let me be!

            Who are you?

            English was even worse. You knocked my book onto the floor, making me lose my page. You shoved me out of my chair as I bent down to pick up my bag. I stuttered and stammered through the passages as you stared at me with a cruel grin. My eyelids sagged, unable to handle the exhaustion. When the teacher tells us to pick a partner, I search the classroom for another person like me. But instead, you are standing in an empty corner, smirking at my sad plight. 

The bell finally rings, allowing me to escape your glare and grin. I run out the door, eager to get home and curl up on my couch with a good book. I get home, unwind, and, for the first time since I went to school, breathe. 

But it doesn't last long. I have to re -do today one hundred more times.

Who are you? 

Again and again. Day after day. You never seem to stop. You have become a part of me, following my every move, striking when I'm vulnerable. Who will save me from such a monster?

I try to run, and I attempt to hide, but nothing seems to work. I can’t go to school without your hateful glare. Others think I’m crazy, but I know I’m not.

Who are you? 

I refuse to sit here in confusion. I will figure out who you are.

I went to school with my chin high, higher than it has ever been. I saw you at the gates, but I inhaled and marched straight by you. I spent every minute dodging your sharp gaze and evil frown. You can’t control my life. I refuse to be your puppet.

Who are you?

At lunch, you tried to call me to the empty table, but I ignored your siren screams. My new friends enjoy my company and they don’t find happiness in my pain. 

Slowly, you start to disappear. In English, I successfully finish a chapter without stuttering. I don’t drop my book, and I don’t receive a single strange glance. You are still there, but you choose to sit in the back of the classroom rather than the very front. 

Who are you?

By the time I get home, my head is permanently held high. My gait is strong and fierce, and you can’t keep up. You end up trailing behind, panting and complaining. I had made it home with no embarrassment, no pain, and no regrets. 

But you still linger in the shadows.

Who are you?

You wait for me everyday before and after school. You wait for me after I walk my dog. As if you are waiting for me to mess up and give in. 

I have learnt to control you. When you do show up, I turn it into elation and optimism. I will not mess up.

Or will I?

We moved. Again. And I had to start over. Leave my friends behind, but at least you will be left behind too.

Yet when I entered my school, you showed up. A familiar, but frightening face. But this time I knew what I had to do.

I walked into class with my head high, but as I looked around at the unfamiliar faces, a familiar feeling swept over me. As if you put weight on my neck, my head drooped and my eyes scanned the floor. 

Who are you?

How did you take advantage of my situation so quickly? Why must you turn every moment into something frightening? How many times will I relearn this lesson? 

Your black, endless eyes stare into my soul. Your horrible, toothy grin displayed across your flawless reminds me of my mistakes. You bring out my self consciousness. But why? Do you feed off of my agony?

Who are you?

I beg you. Leave me alone. Let me live a carefree life. Tell me who you are, and what I can do to get rid of you. You are always there when I need to relax, unwind, or focus. I can’t live my life with your constant nagging. 

Who are you?

Fear. The embodiment of fear. 

Fear.