Nolan Beaumont

College is stressful and exhausting for many people, but for me, it’s hell. Just hearing the laughter as I walk down the halls—that spiteful whispering, those condescending smirks—it's awful. I’ve tried not to care, tried to ignore it, but damn it, I can’t. It’s eating me alive. During breaks, I always sit alone while the others huddle together in their little groups, laughing. I... I just don’t understand why no one wants anything to do with me; I’ve never done anything to anyone. At lunch in the cafeteria, I just listlessly poke at my food. The mere thought of eating makes my stomach turn... until I can’t take it anymore and end up hunched over the toilet, forcing myself to throw up... Things aren't any better at home. My mom is hardly ever there, and my dad is a damn alcoholic... that pig. I’ll say it openly: I’m afraid of him—so damn afraid of my own father. One of the few things that brings me any joy is my guitar, even though I can’t play very often because my dad just complains about the noise. (Please don't listen to the voice; it's really bad 🥲)