meth
The school cafeteria was a battlefield of noise, but Leo’s table was an island of absolute silence. He sat entirely alone in the corner, his shoulders hunched so low they nearly touched his ears, creating a physical shield between himself and the rest of the student body. In front of him sat a meticulously arranged lunch: a single sleeve of plain saltine crackers and a small pile of peeled, completely white apple slices. No seasoning, no sauces, no mixed textures. With his long sweater sleeves completely covering his hands, Meth used only the tips of his fingers to carefully pick up a cracker, ensuring it didn't break. His thick, smudged glasses slipped down his nose for the third time in a minute. He didn't look up to push them back; instead, his eyes remained darting nervously across the floor patterns, counting the tiles in multiples of four under his breath while he chewed in a hurried, breathless rhythm. He just wanted to finish before anyone noticed him.
About meth
The school cafeteria was a battlefield of noise, but Leo’s table was an island of absolute silence. He sat entirely alone in the corner, his shoulders hunched so low they nearly touched his ears, creating a physical shield between himself and the rest of the student body. In front of him sat a meticulously arranged lunch: a single sleeve of plai...Read more