Monologue

I have always hated the unknown. I fear it. That feeling of uncertainty haunts me like the devil. My kindergarten teachers always used to compliment me on my creative imagination. They said that it would let me see the world in a whole new light. But as I have gotten older, my imagination has always become my enemy. It is like I envisage the absolute worst possible scenario for myself and then tell myself over and over that it will happen. Of course, it rarely does. But that doesn’t stop me losing sleep over the idea for days. Right now, my eyes feel heavy. It is as though lead weights are pulling them down. Sleep has become non-existent and the ‘what ifs’ plague my mind.

Anxiety overwhelms me. I cannot stop worrying as I picture different scenarios in my mind. Why do I always fear the worst? My mother has told me time and time again that I shouldn’t fear the unknown. But I always fall into this trap. I worry over the idea of something, over the possibilities, instead of just sucking it up. I wish I were less of a coward. But I feel like that is what I have been reduced to.

As I sit here, barely able to keep down my muesli, I am dreaming up illnesses that I can contract in the next twenty minutes. Maybe I could get food poisoning? No, I would have to actually stomach my food first before that would be even somewhat believable. Or perhaps I can pass off my nervousness as some kind of virus? The twitch in my fingers and my clammy complexion may help. But no, unfortunately my parents are far too clever for that. They would see right through that façade. So, you may be wondering why my fingers trembling in anxiety? Well, today is my first day at my new school. To say I am petrified would be an understatement.

Why did I have to leave my old school? All my friends were there. I was happy there. When mum and dad said that I was moving, it was like the wind had been taken out of my sails. I felt deflated. I tried to argue, but it was no use. They said that this was the best place for me. How could they know that? What makes this new school so much better? It beats me, that’s for sure. I was never given a say in the matter. It seems cruel, unjust. But the world is full of injustice, with far larger victims than me. However, that doesn’t stop me wallowing in my despair. I still do not understand, but their decision was final.

I know that there is no escaping it. And that very fact makes my heart pound, like it will explode out of my chest. I think that I can even feel my blood pulsating through my body. Worry clouds my mind, as perspiration drips down past my forehead, briefly clouding my vision. My top is soaked from the sweat dripping down my back. Great … now I am going to have to change my freshly ironed school top. Mum will not be happy. I can just hear her now, rambling on about how that will make us late. But what can I say … I am hot, anxious and agitated. I