In the middle of class she isn’t feeling so well. Her head slips down onto her notebook and she drifts into another world. When she wakes up the teacher is watching her from her desk. Her mascara had run down her cheeks. She cried in her sleep.

She looks at the mess she made on her notes. A big, ugly messed up paper stares back at her. It’s a mirror she thinks, it’s me on that paper. That mess is me.

She looks at the teacher. “What period is it? I’m going to be late. Oh God, can this life get any worse?”

“It’s fifth period.” The teacher says, she slept for two periods.

She gathers her stuff but stops right before she gets up. Still sitting she asks, “Wait, why did you let me sleep?”

“Oh, honey. I saw the look on your face. I’ve noticed what’s been going on. I wanted to let you rest, let you have a moment to breathe.”

“Yea, well thanks.” She gets up to leave, but turns and collapes onto the floor just two feet from the door. “Can I talk to you? I need to talk to someone. Please?”

“Of course, go ahead.”