I walked down the corridor, feeling all eyes on me. The hustle and bustle of the halls between periods really put me off. I felt claustrophobic, people squeezing past me to get to their respective lessons, with me just trying to get out of the corridor alive. I was beginning to get hot, and felt the sweat bead on my forehead. This wasn't good. Pushing more urgently through the passing people, I started hearing hushed complaints coming from them.

"Move it fatty."

"Watch where you are going, leper."

"Ewww, don't touch me with your disease."

"Pretty hard not to touch, when that piece of lard walks past."

I tried to block them out, but to no avail, I could already feel the tears burning the corner of my eyes. I should be used to this by now. The fat jokes, I had been getting for years, but the disease ones, they had only started in the past few months. I hated it. I hated what I had become, but I couldn't change it. It was just something I would 'have to deal with,' as the doctors so nicely put it.

I finally got to the end of the corridor and slid down the wall to try to catch my breath. The sight of my reflection in the windows opposite caught my attention. I couldn't bear to look, yet I couldn't bring myself to turn away. The tears were coming back but this time I didn't try to stop them, I just let them fall. By now the halls were deathly quiet. Everyone had settled down into their classes and I had a clear route to escape from this hell. Strolling purposefully towards the door, my backpack knocking against my back, I was convinced I could slip out with no one seeing me. My fingertips were inches away from the handle of the door, when it suddenly slammed into me, knocking me to the floor.

I looked up but couldn't make out the cause of my fall. My vision was blurred and it was taking longer than usual to shake the stars swimming round my eyes. Starting to regret my earlier decision of skipping lunch, I tried to pull myself up off the floor until a hand was thrust in front of my face. I still wasn't sure whom this helping hand belonged to but I couldn't lift my head any higher without shooting pains travelling between my temples. Regardless, I grabbed the hand, thankful for the help and lifted myself up.

The butterflies began to fester in the pit of my stomach. I now realised who this person was. The calloused fingertips as a result of excessive guitar playing, the smooth skin on the back of this hand. It was only then that I realised this rugged angel was speaking to me. I snapped out of my trance and quickly diverted my eyes away from him and dropped my hand from his. I muttered thanks and pushed past him, out of the door and hurried away from the building. All I could hear behind me was a confused, "You're welcome," as I finally got to my car and slouched against it.

My breath was ragged and it took a while to get it back. I knew I shouldn't have run but I couldn't help it. I couldn't breathe the same air of that beautiful creature. It was stupid, this pathetic, little crush I had. I'd had it for a while since noticing him in the music class I shared with him. Since then I'd resulted to admiring from a far, knowing that nothing could come of it. Unlocking my car, I climbed in, throwing my backpack onto the passenger seat.

"Arghhhhhh! Stupid, stupid, stupid," I screamed, banging my head against the wheel, trying to get the thoughts out of my head. I needed to get away from here, and fast. Starting the engine and hitting the car into reverse, I sped out of the school car park and out of the gate. I needed to get to my safe place.