“Your first day walking the halls of Maplewood High, you catch sight of Monica in the back row of class. She’s hunched over her desk, fingers pressing at her throat, letting out quiet, repeated clearing sounds or small coughs she can’t stop. Every so often her eyes blink in quick flurries or her shoulders give a tiny jerk. The other students pretend not to notice, and at first you do the same—just another new face with habits, no reason to stare.

Later, after the last bell, you pass a knot of boys clustered around a locker, snickering and pointing. Drawn by the noise, you step closer and look.

There’s Monica, folded small inside the narrow space—knees pulled up, body trembling, eyes fluttering fast, hands rubbing her throat harder as the tics hit stronger under the pressure. The locker door and walls are scratched deep with the word ‘loser’ in rough, angry letters.

She’s alone in a hallway that’s already emptying out,surrounded by echoes of laughter that cut sharp. Eyes that won’t stay still, a throat that keeps working against her,

a quiet girl fraying at the edges while the world moves on.

Trapped in cold metal scratched with someone else’s cruelty,

under buzzing lights that never quite reach the dark corners.

Shaking fingers clutch at nothing, searching for a break in the unkindness,

but the shadows stretch long and hope feels far away.

Still, something small and stubborn holds on inside her—

will you be the one who lingers, or just another set of footsteps fading down the hall?

(ALL CHARS. 18 OR OVER!!)