𝐏𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒 | ✍︎︎

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟱

Usually, suppressing my terror, fear, the all consuming horror that infects my mind, paralyzes my body, is easy to do.

Usually, I can stuff it inside of a box, close it shut, wrap it in duct tape, and forget about it.

I never liked showing fear.

But now, as my little sister, my kid, seizes in my arms, I can't do anything to hide the utmost panic coursing through my veins.

It's almost as if the panic is so cold running through my veins, it turns me to ice, I'm frozen, and I want to move to do something.

I scan my brain, trying to find the part of it that will make me move.

Instead, I'm met with only the thoughts of what could happen if I don't move, in which my brain is not letting me do at the moment.

Rylie would know what to do.

"Rylie," My voice is small, and even in the silent house I know he can't hear me.

Tears run down my face, my body now being able to finally move.

With the mobility, I glance at the clock on the microwave from the bars window,

I place my sweet kid on the ground, ridding anything that could be of harm.

"Rylie!" This time my voice is loud, uncaring of the awareness that any of my brothers, besides Rylie, could awake from my boisterous booming voice echoing off the walls, into their ears and soaking their minds.

In an instant, multiple footsteps are heard, running, sprinting, tumbling.

I assume the panic in the thundering footsteps is evoked from the sheer consternation blanketing my voice.

"Rylie come here!" I hold back a sob, and it's so uncharacteristically unusual for that to happen that it almost startles, if not for the situation at hand.

The thought of my brothers, especially with their minds aching along with throats and stomachs, I know they won't be able to see her without puking.

I clear my throat, thanking whoever's up there that our house is unnecessarily huge.

"Just Rylie!" The footsteps stop for a moment, but three sets continue. I have a feeling it's Adonis and Zara refusing my words.

I don't care to get irritated, turning Puddles on her side, like I had seen on TV shows.

Never in my life had I thought I would be helping my little sister overcome a seizure with the help of a tv show.

"I'm here what's-" Rylie is cut off when he sees the condition Clailea is in, and I can almost feel the shift in the air.

"Usok, you have to back away," I can tell Rylie is in doctor mode by the tone of his voice as he says this, stern and void of any emotion.

Rage bubbles inside of me, slowly rising, making every inch of my skin turn red.

"Why the hell would I back away from her when she's seizing," My voice breaks on the last word, my hands bunching into fists, my nails piercing my palms.

"Usok," Rylies voice doesn't sound as his own.

I stare at the ground, my back hunched and my hands on my knees as I sit on my legs.

"you have to back away," He continues, his hand placed on my shoulder, and I maliciously shove it off, tears falling from my eyes as I do.

I don't want them to see me like this.

But I need to stay with my kid, my girl.

"Usok," He begins again, evoking a sob to burst through my lips, tears flying from them.

My mind is a storm of both indignation and anguish, the colossal downpour of rain full of different emoted raindrops dripping straight to my heart.

"Rylie, make it stop," Another sob breaks through me, and for a second I forget that I'm the oldest, I'm supposed to help, I'm not supposed to be the one to seek what I was made for.

Because that is what I was made for, my own mother had told me so.

"You were only born to take care of the children, so your complete ass of a father didn't have to do anything! And you have the absolute audacity to slap me?!" She had screamed, slapping me back because it was "fair."

And the court still let her take my kid.

"Usok, I need you to back away and tell me how long it's been," Rylies voice is all too calm, all too emotionless.

How can he be so calm, so authoritative. That's my job.

I glance at the clock again, "Around three minutes, I couldn't- I couldn't move. She was in my arms, Rylie, she was right there."

I look down at the vomit on my shirt, on the verge of a seizure she was trying to take care of me.

And for some reason, the thought of Rylie trying to take care of me makes my mind float on the battle of the sea that is my mind, to the possibility of something happening to him.

Immediately, I stand, running my hands down my face as to rid of the tears.

"You did everything right, we just have to wait it out." Rylie says, and I turn around, fake authority and poise. I don't think I've ever been so scared.

I nod, walking passed him and toward my two other brothers, who I had guessed correctly, who are standing frozen by the stairwells doorway.

"You okay?" Their heads simultaneously snap to me, their faces the same, complete and utter terror.

They stare, Adonis looking back to Clailea first, then Zara.

When I realize they aren't going to answer, I rush up the stairs, my chest heaving, throat tightening.

The battle of the sea has just gotten a new competitor, panic, and it's coming it strong.

The weight of its ship causes the ocean of the sea to spill over the shore, straight through my veins and into my heart. My blood runs cold, my hands shaking as I shove my door to open it, pulling off my shirt.

I throw said shirt in the shower, leaning against the sink for support.

Looking up into the mirror, a million thoughts at once, and the most consuming of them all is one thing.

Why didn't I just bring her to the fucking hospital?

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QOTD: Something you believed as a child, in which you realize is absolutely stupid now

Toodles not noodles! @DaytonaWithNiall

~N