Absent

First class of the day.

The teacher reads names from a list,

an executioner calling us to our death.

I patiently wait for my name to be called

But in its place is a name that doesn’t sound right

It rings in my head like a funeral toll.

They look at me, waiting for something to come from my lips

I know they’re calling my name but

The me they want is not here

I want to correct them, tell them the name is wrong

But the only thing scarier than admitting that you’re here is admitting that you’re not.

Time slows down

The world stands still

My mind is running at the speed of light

I’m not here

I’m not here

I’m not here

I’m...

Here.

I raise my right hand

My fingers curled in defensively

The page is marked, the silence broken

The list continues,

The drone continues,

But the crushing hum of that name remains.