I walked into my English Literature class wearing a shirt stained with blood. Everyone looked at me as if I had returned from a horrific crime scene. But the truth was much more innocent: I’d just visited the dentist and didn’t have time to change into a new shirt.
I thought a panic attack was about to happen and wanted to retreat into my shell like a turtle. After all, I didn’t have many friends in high school and was scared of judgement. Like many introverts, I enjoyed being alone, reflecting on my thoughts, and pondering life’s big questions.
I sat down at my desk and pulled out my copy of Romeo and Juliet. The room was quiet, I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, and my professor tapped me on the shoulder. “It’s your turn,” he said. “Everyone is waiting for you to begin!”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered to my professor.
“Nonsense,” he replied. “All you have to do is say one word at a time.”
I nodded and began reading the opening lines of Shakespeare’s famous play. “Two households, both alike in dignity. In fair Verona, where we lay our scene.”
“Well done,” said my professor as he gestured me to continue.
I kept reading the scene from Romeo and Juliet. “From ancient grudge break to new mutiny…” And then there was silence. It was almost as if a ghost grabbed my throat and prevented me from speaking. Within seconds, my hands began to shake, and beads of sweat dripped from my forehead.