And holy muffin shit, The younger one looks exactly like me, same hair, same eye.
You mean, you look like him?
My inner bitch has to shut up sometimes, more like every freakish time.
"So, you're the father of the year, yeah?" I asked, narrowing my...
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The light above me flickers slowly, casting an eerie glow over the sterile white room. As my eyes blink open, the steady rhythm of my heartbeat is displayed on the monitor attached to my hand. And then the smell of antiseptic fills my nostrils.
I find myself unable to muster the courage to look around. The more I stare at the white walls ahead of me, the more I'm pulled back into the past.
Memories flood my mind, each one more haunting than the last. Making me painfully aware of my situation.
He knows where I am.
He always knows.
A sudden panic grips me. My breath comes in shallow gasps as I choke on my own saliva, desperate for air.
I can hear a faint sound of the heart monitor beeping faster, mirroring my rising fear. Suddenly, someone is in the room with me.
A stranger. In pale blue scrubs with dark brown eyes that seem to pierce through my soul. As I stare at those eyes, my anxiety spikes.
He's not him. He's not him. He's not him.
I chanted the mantra, almost on edge of my nightmare. My hands fly to my neck, trying to remove a collar that isn't there, but I can feel its suffocating presence, bending me to his will.
“What's wrong, Xavier?” A cold voice echoes through the room.
“Evelyn?”
“Eve?” A voice barely a whisper.
“Hey, kiddo?” The familiar endearments cut through my panic, pulling me back to reality. I open my eyes and meet a pair of electrical blue ones.
Xavier.
“Yes, baby, that's it. Just concentrate on me and breathe, one breath at a time,” he says, approaching slowly.
He takes my hands in his, his grip firm and reassuring. “Slowly, just one breath at a time, deep breaths.” His calm voice is a lifeline.
A hand brushes my hair out of my face, and instead of recoiling from the touch, I find it soothing.
I jerk my hands back, burying my face in them. I've experienced enough panic attacks to recognize the signs.
It's like poison, coursing through my veins, pricking my skin with millions of tiny pins, demanding to be unleashed its chaos. The terror of it consuming it to my bones.
