The End

Chapter 7

Smith felt like he could barely breathe. He wasn't sure if it was his injuries or the topic at hand, but something made his chest so incredibly tight. He didn't notice, but his hands clenched onto the bedsheets.

It was the first time in years Smith had said anything about a feeling. As far as his closest friends knew he didn't even have them. Well, he didn't really have many close friends but that's besides the point.

"Actually, yeah," Milo said very softly, looking down at his own hands which were fumbling nervously. "I have felt something is off. I just didn't think anyone would care." He looked everywhere but at Smith, "yunno it's kind of funny," he chuckled a bit, but Smith could tell he was upset, "I thought that it was just me. I, uh." Everytime he tried to say something it escaped him, Milo wasn't even sure what he was trying to say.

Smith's hands relaxed and he let out a large sigh, causing Milo to look up at him. For a second it was just them, sitting together, looking at each other. It was so mundane, so simple.

Smith brought his hand up to his chest, he could breathe again. It was then that he realized that Milo was waiting for him to say something. His ears perked up and his eyes widened as he looked away from him.

They had just been staring at each other, because Smith made it seem like he had something to add, but really was just noticing he could breathe again. He felt his teeth press against each other. Milo was still staring at him. Smith's regained breath became fast, and his eyes darted around the room. He needed to say something, anything, spit something out. He couldn't feel his hands, his teeth started buzzing, life was paused around him and he was moving a million miles a minute.

"Hey."

Smith suddenly slowed. Somehow Milo had moved closer to Smith. He looked worried, or almost sympathetic, Smith couldn't tell. He was saying something. Smith couldn't really hear it, but he found it calming just knowing someone was there.

"Are you feeling better?" Smith opened his eyes, not sure as to when he closed them, to Milo's face inches from his. He noticed the color of Milo's eyes for the first time. They were a deep green, and reminded him of the forest surrounding his house. "Smith. Are you feeling better?" He left him waiting again.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm better. I-" a tear fell from his chin onto his lap. "I was crying?"

"I think you had a panic attack. I don't know if you've ever had one before, but I have and it looked a lot like what mine do. Different people experience them differently, and I'm certainly no doctor-"

"I'm sorry," Smith interrupted, "I don't think. I mean, uh, I don't have anxiety, so," Smith trailed off. Milo looked at Smith's hands, picking at the sides of his fingernails. He grabbed one of Smith's hands and held it up for him to see.

"The sides of your nails are bloody from you picking at them all the time. You don't make eye contact when you're nervous. You just had what seemed to be a pretty bad panic attack, that looks like anxiety to me," Milo listed things out more matter of fact this time. "I'm not trying to say I'm a doctor, I already told you I'm not, but if you experience something like that again you should go see Ms. Amy. She's really helpful."

Milo put down Smith's hand and looked away from him. Smith sat and looked at his nails, two of his fingers had fresh cuts on the sides from just now. He had experienced moments like that his whole life, but he didn't want to tell Milo that. He decided to just stay quiet, but Milo broke the silence.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to come off so strong. It's just that I've been through similar stuff and I don't want anyone to feel like that. Uh, but speaking of feelings," Milo got up from Smith's bed to pick up his backpack and pulled out a tattered sketchbook. He brought it over to Smith and flipped through it, hiding the pages from Smith's view until he found the page he was looking for. "The weird feeling... Does it feel anything like this?"