Wilting Marigolds (dreamxreader)

breaking

TW: SWEARING, YELLING, PANIC ATTACK (warning ahead) 

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My vision is blurry as I fade in and out of consciousness. I feel myself being lifted in someone's arms. An arm under my legs and one cradling my back. Their presence is warm and comforting and I feel myself involuntarily snuggling closer. In my groggy state I barely make out three different male voices, they don't sound like they're from L'Manburg. One of the voices is very loud and energetic, another is excited but calmer, and the third doesn't say much. The third voice is the loudest so I assume it belongs to whoever is carrying me. The voices are quiet, dull, but present nonetheless. I feel them trying to wake up, like a tired cat, stretching and yawning, clawing their way out of silence. 

I dip out of consciousness again and barely come to again later. I don't know how much later but I'm still being carried. I can smell a gentle breeze carrying the scents of the grass, trees and flowers nearby. I must be out of the village, away from L'Manburg. But how far away?

I fade back in and hear a door opening and tools and armour being dumped on the ground. Someone tells off someone else, I hear a groan and a chest open. I can hear chinking, clinking and clanking as weaponry and armour is thrown messily into the chest. I fade out.

I wake up on my back. I'm staring at the ceiling and I can feel a bed beneath me. My head is pounding from being hit, I feel for a bruise but don't find one. I got really lucky they didn't hit me that hard. I reflexively start examining my surroundings.

I sat up and pulled my legs into a more comfortable position and took note of everything. The wardrobe in the corner, the small desk on the wall to my right, the bedside table on my left, the soft handmade quilts of the bed, the mirror that reflected me sitting on the bed but most importantly, the window. I dashed over and fumbled with the latch. Locked. Letting out a sigh I moved to the door. Also locked. I groaned and paved the room with my hands on the top of my head. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?

Plopping down at the desk I went through my options. Wait for someone to get me, escape or die of boredom. None of my options were great, or easy. I looked back at the mirror, I looked like shit. Dried blood splotches were in my mangy hair and on my head and all over my knuckles. I was stripped down to the white tank I wore under my uniform and my trousers which were ripped in random places. I noticed my boots sag at the door, covered in mud and the socks on my feet were wearing thin. I really needed a shower. No, I needed to get the fuck out of here.

Two: panic attack ahead skip until you see these ----- if you are uncomfy <3

I felt the voices get louder every time I started thinking about escaping. I tried to stop thinking about it, block it from my mind, but then I would just start thinking about it again. The voices grew from a speech-like volume to a riot. Loud and incoherent screeches filled my ears and made them ring. It pressed on my skull like rocks and throbbed like a stubbed toe. I pressed my hands to my temples and willed for it, begged for it to end. A groan escaped my lips and it grew louder and louder and louder.

My pulse quickened and my heart started running away from me. I felt my chest rise and fall rapidly and my hands slipped from my temples as they dropped with sweat. Panic rose like a villain in my chest. I couldn't breathe, the room was too small, I needed air. I stumbled to the window like a drunken bar patron and tried to push the window open. It refused to budge. I smashed my first against it but all my newfound strength has been snatched away from me.
"Please!" I cried pushing on the window.
"PLEASE!" I begged as the voices only grew. My eyes darted around the room searching for a way out. I found none. Black spots clouded my vision and I started seeing things on the walls.