Allow me to explain myself. I think, somewhere in a past entry, I talked about my fear of men. Well… it’s getting pretty serious.
Two Literary Magazine meetings ago, I had been sitting down with my LM clubmates, happily lost in my thoughts as I brainstormed ideas for the writing prompt that day. It was to write something spring-themed, and our club proctor provided us with three choices. I had chosen to write a short scene in which the character I’d created described her favorite flower. I never got to finish writing that scene, and do you know why?
Because HE walked in.
The very second that teacher walked through the library doors, I stiffened and all thoughts of springtime flowers ran away. I wanted to run away with them. On the table we were working on was a jar of candy. Now, unfortunately for me, my closest friend, sitting right across from me, absolutely LOVES this teacher. As he was passing by us in order to get to the only men’s room in the school, Corr greeted him with her customary enthusiasm and offered him some candy. I stared hard at my paper, determined to not look at him. He, in turn, gave Corr an ambiguous “maybe” and went on his way to the restroom. Like he does every time we meet for LM.
What’s different this time is that Corr must have noticed the intense look of fear on my face. When she inquired, I told her about how terrified I was of him, keeping my voice low. The other members of LM turned their attention from their writing to me. And I spilled everything.
About how much of a sketch I think he is.
How I avoid looking at him at all times.
How I feel like he’s always watching me whenever I accidentally glance over at him.
How I fear he might hiss my address in my ear as he passes me in the halls.
And especially how, in those rare moments when I unintentionally meet his eyes, I get the feeling that he knows. That, in that one look, he immediately knows everything there is to know about me, including my innermost secrets. No, I feel that his gaze is actually pulling my secrets out of me, forcing it, sucking it out until I’m just a shell of emptiness.
So now my LM mates know. And the reactions I got were varied. They listened with a great intensity, all writing abandoned. They giggled a bit at my reasons for fearing him, but I could tell they were trying to be compassionate. One friend loves him, another gets creeped out like him (but it’s not a full-fledged fear), and another just doesn’t really notice him. They all did laugh when I revealed that my nickname for him was, because of his last name, Daisy.
Hence the title of his journal entry.
We all hushed up when we heard him emerging from the restroom. And for a euphoric, hopeful moment I thought he was going to leave the library without talking to us.
Corr waved him over and asked him again if he wanted some candy. I glared hard at her shoulder, thinking I could burn a hole in it if I tried for a long enou—
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, he’s TWO FEET AWAY FROM ME!!
I think he was trying to scare me, because he laughed this extremely creepy laugh that sent chills down the length of my spine. And Corr had the nerve to tell him, laughingly, to stop because he was scaring me. I dropped my head and my tomato red face in my arms and waited for him to go.
Hmm, this entry is getting rather lengthy, and I still have more to say about him. I guess I’ll continue tomorrow, after I get back from doing service. My friends are still picking on me about my phobia. Meanies.
#7. Maintain my perfect GPA – Accomplished!
#10. Add more songs to my iPod – Accomplished! (It’s a little over 150 now.)
#11. Quit leaving things until the last minute – Total fail! (I left my SciFair project until the very last minute again. TT-TT)
Until next time,
~ Nana :D