I watched as Adam Daniels car pulled up to the school curb. Everyone knew who Adam was, and if you didn’t you made sure not to get to close to his fits, which happened more and more often. Three teachers standing by the school doors made their way down the steps towards the curb. It was like a movie, as they walked in sync, I could already hear the music the directors would choose at a moment like this.

They were intimidating, dressed in black suites. They were all men, bigger, muscled men. They were like bouncers making their way to the doors where the crazy lunatic was sitting, trying to get into the club. Many other classmates stopped and watched them make their way to the blue SUV. It was a morning ritual most students didn’t miss.

One of the men opened the door and began to reach inside. He extracted a struggling Adam. Adams appearance worsened everyday he came to West High, today he had on ripped jeans, unbuttoned and ruffled, his red long sleeve shirt, not only was weather inappropriate but disarrayed at the collar. His hair jumped up in odd directions. Upon meeting him for the first time, I’d thought he’d make a cute boy, if he took care of himself. But after seeing his disease in full flower, the thought never came back to me.

“What are you doing?! Don’t send me in there! There’s an evil thing in there, trying to kill me!” Adam screamed. He punched out clipping one of the teachers in the face, drawing blood from his nose. The other two men came rushing, grabbing Adam so the bleeding man could run for the school.

I could tell he didn’t like school, he preferred his fantasy illusions. The men hurried him inside but not before the laughing grew exponentially. Several boys screamed hurtful words. I didn’t laugh; there wasn’t anything funny about Adam.

I walked into the school and hurried to my first class. Adam was in that class as well, and everyday he had a new fantasy he shared to the other students. Today was probably the most vivid reality disorientation, he’d ever had.

First, he screamed and shielded himself from the invisible danger. He shook with fear as his eyes grew at the horrendous sight. No one approached him as his illusion deepened.

“Help me!” he screamed. Everyone turned towards his pleading, and several of the boys began to giggle. Adam jumped up and grabbed one of the unsuspecting boys by the collar. Adam was an amazingly strong boy and lifted him up out of his chair with ease.

“Do you think that is funny?!” he screamed in the boys face, pointing towards an empty space towards the teacher’s desk. Adam breathed deeply with his fear and anger waiting for his answer. The boys eyes grew huge and he shook his head. Adam dropped him in his seat and ran away from the invisible creature again.

“Leave me alone! Get away from me!” No one came to Adam’s rescue. The teachers far away attending to things; avoiding having to deal with Adam.

“Marissa! Please, help me!” Adam grabbed my shirt sleeve. His eyes looked into mine and I could see what no one else could. I could see the monsters that haunted him everyday. And some of them weren’t imaginary. His eyes pleaded with mine, and I had a strong urge to help this person. I stood, shaking Adam from my sleeve. I walked to the corner he stared at in fear.

I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I punched at the air. I lost all control. I swung at images of people hurting Adam, physically and emotionally. I swung at the memories that haunted him, imagined or real.

“Leave. Him. Alone!” I screamed into the air, punching the air with every word. Finally, my fist connected with the concrete wall. My arms ached with the effort of the punching effort. My knuckles, scrapped up from the concrete, began to trickle blood onto the floor as I pulled my hand away.

I turned and saw eyes full of confusion and fear. I looked into Adams, and I felt calm. His eyes were relieved and thankful. At that moment, the teacher walked into the room.

“Marissa? Is everything ok?” He asked, seeing the blood on my knuckle. I looked down at my knuckle and grinned.

“Yeah, sir. I seemed to have hurt my hand…May I go to the nurse?”