FATED SEATS

CHAPTER 13

ARA'S POV

Presentation day arrived, casting a long shadow of dread over my already fragile state of mind. I tried to appear calm and collected, but my heart pounded in my chest like a trapped bird, desperate to escape.

As we took our positions on the stage, I could feel the eyes of my classmates and teachers boring into me. My palms were sweating, my knees were shaking, and my mind was a blank slate.

The music started, and we began our yoga dance routine. I tried my best to remember the steps, to synchronize my movements with the other members, but it was a losing battle. My anxiety had taken over, paralyzing me from the inside out.

I stumbled and faltered, my movements jerky and uncoordinated. I knew I was messing up, throwing off the entire routine. The other members tried to compensate, but it was no use. I was a weak link, dragging them down with me.

Somehow, we managed to make it through the presentation. As we took our final bow, I could feel the disappointment radiating from my group members. They tried to be polite, offering words of encouragement and telling each other they had done a good job, but their forced smiles couldn't hide their true feelings.

I, on the other hand, felt like I had been a complete disaster. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had ruined everything, that I had let everyone down. A silent anxiety attack washed over me, threatening to overwhelm me. I fought back the tears, desperate not to create a dramatic scene.

After class, I hurried home, my body and mind exhausted. As I walked through the door, I collapsed onto my bed, overwhelmed by a wave of negative thoughts.

"You're worthless," I told myself. "You're a failure. You'll never be good enough.”

The negativity spiraled, each thought building upon the last, creating a vortex of self-loathing that threatened to consume me entirely.

"Why can't you be normal?" I berated myself. "Why can't you be like everyone else? Why do you have to be so awkward and clumsy and anxious all the time?"

The memories of past failures and disappointments flooded my mind, each one reinforcing the belief that I was inherently flawed, destined to fail at everything I attempted.

"You're a burden to your family," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "They expect so much from you, and you can never live up to their expectations. You're a disappointment."

The faces of my classmates, my teachers, my parents flashed before my eyes, each one filled with disappointment and disapproval. I felt like I was drowning in their judgment, suffocating under the weight of their expectations.

"No one will ever love you," a voice hissed in my ear. "You're too broken, too damaged. You're not worthy of love."

The thought pierced my heart like a shard of ice, chilling me to the bone. I had always longed for connection, for acceptance, but I was convinced that I was incapable of forming meaningful relationships. I was too messed up, too damaged, to be loved.

As the negative thoughts intensified, I began to feel a sense of hopelessness wash over me. What was the point of trying, of struggling, when I was doomed to fail anyway? What was the point of living, when all I felt was pain and disappointment?

"Maybe it would be better if I just disappeared," I thought, the idea sending a shiver down my spine. "Maybe everyone would be better off without me.”