Everything I Ever Wanted

Paparazzi Pt.2

I couldn't last any longer. I needed her arms wrapped around me better than they currently were. I reached my arms up signaling for her to pick me up and when she looked down, I looked up. I knew the panic was written clearly over my face and the tears in my eyes were easy to spot.
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Now:
She leaned down and brought me into her arms. I wrapped my arms around her neck and buried my face in the crook of it, trying to hide from the men with cameras. I could faintly hear her calming voice in my ear. 'Shh, It's ok. I got you. I'm right here.'

'Kid..'
'Hey kid...'
'Kid...'

Their words kept repeating in my head. I could tell Lizzie was getting either frustrated with me or them because she was getting tense. 'The light should be changing soon.' She reassured me knowing I just wanted to get away from there.

'Who's the girl?'
'What's her name?'

They never seemed to give up and just let us live our lives. Then, I felt it. The third trigger. Touch. But not like Lizzie's. No, this one I was familiar with. Rough. Aggressive.

One of the men with cameras had pulled on my arm in hopes of getting a picture of my face I assumed. And that's all it took to send me into a full panic. Normally, I wouldn't be ok showing this side of me in front of people. I had experienced it before but I was always good at masking it in the presence of others.

The short breaths I took turned to labored.  I couldn't seem to catch any air when I breathed. The vibration in my hands became violent shaking. The tears that were once too stubborn to fall now fell at a rapid pace staining my once dry cheeks. I was sobbing silently, yet loud enough for Lizzie to hear. What I hadn't realized was Lizzie's response to the man who grabbed me. I heard it faintly but was too consumed by the  panic I was experiencing.

'You do not touch her!' Lizzie was furious. I mean her child, woah that came out so easily... but her child was grabbed by the unwelcome hand of someone she did not know. Her child was scared, panicking, holding on to her for dear life, and It was because of them.

'Woah, look we're sorry Miss Olsen. We just wanted a picture. It's our job.'

'No, you're job is not to grab peoples' daughters. You are not paid to scream and shout questions at children who are simply associated with the celebrity's you stalk for pictures and videos. So, you do not touch her. Or talk to her. Or so much as look at her wrong or I will be sure to call my lawyers regarding emotional distress. Now, WE will be on our way so I can go calm down my child that YOU scared. I hope I won't have to call security to deal with anyone.'

And with that we crossed the road. I remained silently sobbing with my panicked state and all it attributes. Lizzie seemed to have returned to her tender and calming nature as she resorted back to stroking my hair and assuring me we were almost to our destination. I was quick to notice the absence of camera flashes and the shouts of the grown men who owned them.

But what remained in my head was the words Lizzie told them. Her child. Her daughter. That was me. That ruled out some of my previous thoughts questioning what our relationship was, but there was always the chance it was a spur of the moment, only word she could think of, sorta thing.

My overthinking subsided slightly as we entered a building. I immediately noticed the change in temperature and the sound of cars in New York City becoming muffled. I still didn't dare to lift my head. I felt Lizzie make her way into the building before stopping.

'Oh, Hey, Lizzie. I didn't realize you'd be coming by today.' Came the voice of a presumably welcoming young woman. She sounded sweet and I assumed she was like the lady's in the front office at my school, or old school now? I think that makes her the receptionist as I've heard before in class.