By Sian Hutchins - Year 11, St Peter's College
If you happened to gaze upon the continuous show of Alex's life, you would find her seated, aligned in a row with many others, as if in a theatre facing centre stage.
In the spotlight, stood the main act: Alex's teacher.
He had no shake of nerves or stutter of fear; he had performed for many years and taught with a single toned drone of instruction, only relieved by pauses for breath.
Unsurprisingly, the main act did not capture all attention in the room and the class pursued their own show with hushed whispers of conversation and an infuriating t-tap, t-tap of an otherwise interested student, which coincided with the panicked race of Alex's heart.
Alex's heart was panicked. She was constantly fearful of speaking in front of others or talking to her peers.
She just lacked confidence. Not just if she was about to perform a speech - that was normal - but just the thought of being called on for an answer, drove her into a state of panic.
Playing in Alex's head was the show of her life where she played the lead role, but she wanted to break out of the bubble of fear and be in the sellout, the headliner show of life where all her friends and everyone she knew performed without cowering away from the spotlight.
Nagging, a quiet voice of doubt questioned her: What if?
What if she said something wrong and everyone hated her for it? What if they mocked her and laughed at her? What if?
Stuttered and stammered speech was not what Alex wanted. She wanted to have confidence when she spoke.
Flowing into Alex's mind in a constant stream of unease were her thoughts.
Thoughts of panic, thoughts of chaos.
Yet to the observer, she portrayed distraction and boredom; a complete contrast to her internal struggles.
Prepping itself for the survival situation her mind had created, her body was prepared.
Her abdominal muscles were clenched - Ready!
Her heart was thrashing as it desperately tried to disperse oxygenated blood - Set!
Her adrenal gland produced adrenaline anticipating - Go!
The problem? There was none. Nor was any foe to be feared. The enemy causing her distress was fictitious, created by the worst critic, her mind.
A voice brought her out of her thoughts.
''Alex?''
Her fears were confirmed, because it was now her call for stage.
The lights focused on her and the world was listening to her microphone's sound.
Her heart went wild now as she questioned herself as to which script to follow.
Should she reign in her tormentor by facing the problem head on and replying to her teacher in confidence, or retreat by saying nothing?
If Alex chose correctly, she would be granted a permanent part as ''Alex'', not ''the weird chic'' in the show of life, alongside her classmates who had no qualms about their confidence.
Her mind pondered the dilemma: To speak up, or not? That was the question.
Terror grasped her, clasping her gut, shaking her hand and heart. She couldn't do this. It would all go wrong.
Alex muttered an apology and the show of her life kept its usual trajectory.
If one should happen to notice the small exchange in the show of Alex's life, one would see her facade, the character she performs out of fear.
They would see her distracted pose, gazing into the distance, looking occupied by her own thoughts - perhaps lulled by the classic student melody of t-tap, t-tap of an otherwise interested student.
