Panic attacks. First, you feel like you can not breathe and everything suddenly slows down and speeds up at the same time. The overwhelming sensation spreads like flowing water across your entire body, taking over every inch of your existence. Second, you begin to feel tingly and dizzy, your veins have the sensation of ice running through them. And third, all you wanna do is run, escape, or hide. But you can’t.

I have never told anyone about my ‘extreme episodes’, no one would care anyways. And it is not like I could explain my panic attacks to them and they’d understand even a fraction of what I go through. It has always been like this though, me keeping everything to myself. Even before my mother passed, I have kept many, many, many things to myself. But I’m becoming tired, not physically, but mentally. I’m tired of keeping everything to myself. I just want someone to talk to, but it can’t just be anybody, this someone has to also want to try and open me up. But this is only a wish of mine and it’s a wish because it’ll probably never happen.

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I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting in this obnoxiously small front office, but at some point, the two boys who were also in the restrooms this morning, walk in and have a seat to my left, of course neither of them sit beside me, but the bean pole looks at me and wiggles his eyebrows while smiling like he just won a million bucks. I scrunch my face up in a mixture of confusion and weirded out-ness. ing creep. I think cautiously to myself, while slowly turning my head away. Upon their arrival I had learned all their names, even my offender, thanks to the secretary. First, the lanky one who looks like a horse, is named Lee Seokmin, but upon hearing this name he quickly corrected the motionless secretary (Who couldn't care less what this kids name is.), insuring her that he’d rather be called DK. Next, the shorter of the three, who has a terrible haircut, is simply named Lee Chan. And finally, the bully, his name in Huang Joonea.

As I’m leaning my back heavily on the uncomfortable plastic chair, the bell for second period begins to ring and the door across the office opens with a lazy swing. Who I assume to be Mr.Jung, the principal, steps out of the door frame and looks toward my direction. “Come on.” He says in a tired manner, while gesturing his hand inside the now open room. At first I think he’s talking to me but when I hear a scoff and a screeching chair, I turn my head and see my offender, Joonea. I had totally forgotten about him. He’s just been remarkably quiet and that is saying something coming from me.

“This I so stupid, I mean I didn't even do anything…” He says, cocking his head to the side and giving the two boys and I an icy glare. This stare gives me chills that run rapidly down my spine, like rocks tumbling down immense mountain cliffs. The principal then rolls his eyes in annoyance and gestures again towards his office. “Come on, let's not makes this any harder than it has to be.” The bully then scoffs and begins to raise his voice. “Well, this  is the one who started it!"

There’s that word again, the one word that burrows deep down into my pale skin and plants itself heavily within the crevices of my entire being. That word holds too much of a negative meaning, too much coldness, too much venom.

The principals gruff voice immediately cuts in, but I barely even hear him because at that point, my mind and body have their own reaction and my thoughts become clouded and rushed.

“That kind language is not nee-”

While my brain is over analyzing the situation, my long legs begin to move, sluggishly and on their own accord and before I know it I’m standing close to Joonea. Swiftly yet ruggedly, my shaky left hand begins to lift and fall down just as fast, landing heavily across the person in front of me, slapping their face with enough force to cause an instant blooming hand print to appear upon his shocked expression.

The echoing sound of hand to skin brings me crashing down into reality and with a stinging palm and loss of breath, I know I’ve ed up.

"Mr. Jeon! To my office now! I will not tolerate violence. Period!” Mr.Jung then grabs my forearm after I stand there contemplating over how I just did that. As I’m stepping past Joonea he begins to lean in towards to my ear, lips grazing over it dangerously close, and it’s at that very moment, I’ve never felt more disgusted in my life. He then begins to whisper harshly, much to my distaste.

“You’re going to regret that.”

Mr.Jung then drags me the rest of the way into the room and I’m completely at a loss. What does he mean by that? The next thing I know I'm sitting in a cushioned, but still uncomfortable, chair across from the principle, who's looking at me with a mix of disappointment and sympathy.

Great. More pity. That's the last thing I want from someone.

I move my eyes towards my lap and then stare at my nervous hands. While twirling my fingers around each other, out of habit, the room falls deadly silent and it's honestly starting to become suffocating. A few seconds later I hear a squeak of a chair and he begins to speak.

“I know about your speaking issue and I’m not going to force you into talking, but I’d appreciate it if you could answer my yes and no questions with at least a nod or shake of your head.” I continue to look at my hands as they fold and unfold together and I reply by nodding my head ever so slightl