_“Nah, I can’t. I don’t want to end this season on a bad episode.”_

_Song by Tyler the Creator, this story deals with mentions/references of depression and anxiety. This was also a bit rushed since I did this in school… but all warnings aside, please enjoy._

**~~~**

You were always known as the “quiet kid” at your school. Despite all things aside, you did exceed in certain classes. One of them being ELA, since it was the class you were able to talk with one of your most (and only) friends. They were nice to you, so today, you had to ask them a question, one that had the ability to change things.

_“Why?” _You turn towards them, a frown forming on your face. They blink, turning towards you now in response. Your class was working on a writing assignment on your laptops, so they were mainly focusing on that, yet pause it to speak to you.

_“Why… what?” _They reply, their own frown forming on their own face. Your friend also had a bit of a problem with trying to make the best out of things. It made no sense to you — really.

_“Why you bother putting up with me. I feel like you have to deal with the same shit everyday, and keep getting tired of me whenever I vent my feelings out on you. I feel like everything is repeating, and I can’t do anything about it.”_

__

__

Of course, you don’t say that. You cant say that. You know that if you say that, things are going to crash down around you, and people will make fun of you for your traumas and struggles. And that’s okay. They are… them. And you are you.

_“Nothing. It’s fine. Let’s just continue working.” _You shrug them off like usual, sighing quietly. They shrug in response, and instantly their focus is moved back to their computer as they continue to type.

You feel a pair of eyes on you. Yet you don’t look. It was the teacher, judging you like always. You had a 70 in her class, which was a passing grade, but she had pushed you more than everyone else had. And you didn’t know why entirely, but it felt odd.

Silence continues to pass throughout the room, with nothing yet the sound of quietly clacking keyboard keys emit in the room. Your eyes dart back up to the clock. It was 3:30 PM, 30 minutes until you could leave the damn school.

As the minutes continue passing, your hands tap on the desk absentmindedly, a pit in your gut starting to form. Of course, no one noticed you, yet you stayed still as possible, not wanting to cause a scene in the classroom.

The bell finally, eventually rings, letting you and the others leave, yet you still feel a bit of an odd way. You had also struggled at home, which was a bit funny, quite frankly.

So maybe it was better to just stay Inside.