Sunflowers

No one gets this story...if you don't, don't feel bad.

I've been walking down this hallway for 9 years now. Every day. At least 5 times a day. School is in the same place for all 12 years. 13 If you count kindergarten. The stale yellow wallpaper has been annoying for me 8 of the years I've seen it. It used to be pretty. It has sunflowers printed on there by some talented artist who must have spent an entire 6 months straight painting them on there. And that's just on the border. Then, the walls have huge 3 feet suns printed on them. The suns have smiley faces. In first grade, it was cute.
    It isn't anymore.
    Sometimes, as I walk down the hallway, I look around to see if anyone is there. If there is no one, I drag my fingers across the painted sunflowers and pick off scraps of petals. I feel guilty about it, until I see that there is more and more petals that are missing, from other kids that have been bored.
    I'm sick of these hallways. The sun scares me. I'm in 9th grade, I'm 15 years old, and a smiling sun with eyes that follow me scares me.
    I've been thinking of how to get over my fear. Every day I walk in these hallways, and I look into the walls, and when I look around to see if anyone is there, and there isn't, and I start to pick at the petals, I see the sun's eyes. They are big and black. The have curly eye lashes and twinkles. And the eyes follow me. I look around and see if anyone is there to see me being frightened. There isn't a soul. Ever. And that scares me more.
    I've only shared my phobia with one other person in the world. I got laughed at. My brother said I was crazy. He laughed until tears rolled out of his eyes. And he kept laughing.
    So I haven't told anyone else.
    I'm finally reaching the end of the hallway. I'm heading for the main office. And when I turn the corner, the office is gone. There is another hallway. I looked to see where it ended, knowing before I did, that I wouldn't be able to see where the end was. Things like that always happened to me. At least things like that had been happening lately. Halls turned endless. Stairs were added to buildings that were just one floor. One minute, I'd be inside, the next, I'd be on a corner, waiting for a bus. It scared me that these things happened at first, but with time, I've gotten used to it.
     I walked the hallway for a full 5 minutes or so and come out to an open pocket of air with no door blocking it, and no ground to fall onto. I step anyway. And I'm back at the beginning of the hallway. The eyes are watching me. The eyes blink at me. The sun's smile turns into an O. It gasps. Someone taps me on the shoulder. It's Mrs. Kerp. She asks me what I'm doing in the hallway so late. I reply that it is only 9:45 in the morning and that I have a pass. I ask her not to give me detention. And I reach into my pocket for my hall pass. There is no hall pass. But she doesn't care. She tells me it is 5:00 in the evening, on a Friday, and that she is amazed at how much I love school. She pats my head and tells me to go on, get home.
     So I do.
    I walk down the hall once again, dragging my nails against the paint, watching threads of paint fly away. I expect the hallway to turn into another hallway that doesn't end when I turn it. It doesn't happen that way. I knew it wouldn't. I walk out the door of the school. The very moment my old, red vinyl Airwalks reach the ground, I'm in my apartment. I have a glass of milk pressed to my lips and I nearly choke on the flavor. Spoiled milk. I drop the glass and it shatters across the kitchen floor. A hundred pieces. I look down at my feet to double check my shoes. I'm barefoot. I don't seem to even notice. I just walk right onto the glass, feeling it sink it my skin and creating horrible gashes. And I keep walking.