Football Imagines (England players mostly)

Panic Attack - Phil Foden

I'm a normal girl.                                                                                                                                                                    Just a normal girl.                                                                                                                                                                   Or am I?

(Backstory)

(You can skip this and read only what happens in the present, but I advise you to read here first before moving on, since it has a connection to the main story)

I never knew my father. But from what I was used to hearing my mom say, he was an addict and a sight of him without a bottle of alcohol was impossible. He was paired forever with it. And died with it. Because of it. In a car crash. My mom was then pregnant with me and had to endure the rest of her pregnancy without his support. 

My mom gave birth to me, then to my sister eight years later. I never knew my sister's father. I have made myself believe that the root was a one night stand. I will never blame my mother for it. Because she did it for me, so we could have food on the table. I grew up in a chaotic home, which my mom tried to make perfect for me, so I could grow up and say that I at least, had a decent childhood. She tried to cover the bad things, like when you put a curtain to separate the outside world from your privacy, to protect what there is inside; to protect me. 

But when you grow, your mind grows. And I grew to understand that my mom was not to blame for the type of work she did. My dad was and if he didn't grow addicted to bottles of unworthy money, he probably would have been here today. 

Eight years after my sister, Kayla was born. My mom was diagnosed with cancer and died soon after. My sister and I were given up, we went to live in Portsmouth with my grandmother, the only one we had left. But my grandmother was old, and I didn't want to be a burden on her. So, when I was old enough, I signed to get legal custody of Kayla, and moved out. 

Manchester became my new obsession. I was visiting monuments, museums, stadiums and shopping malls everyday. The only place I didn't cross off my visiting list were pubs: and my past made it a must to neglect even the thought of going there. 

My life, and Kayla's life seemed almost too good to be true. We were finally happy where we were and our past was slowly drifting out of our minds. I completed my education in Manchester, while working part time to support us both. I finally worked as an assistant manager in a company involved in the production of medicines. 

(The Present)

Now I have Phil. And he is the greatest gift I got while moving to Manchester. While staying with him, I feel safe. Even the smallest gestures like putting his hand on my back while helping me cross the road makes me feel safe. And I feel like even the strongest obstacles have no effect on me. 

Kayla was at a sleepover with some of her friends. She had been planning her stay for over two weeks now and I felt bad for not allowing her to go. So, I bended the rules and let her have fun. While she was away, I reckoned that it was the prefect opportunity to call Phil over and spend a night with him. 

Phil had arrived over an hour ago directly from training and he was now showering in my bathroom while I was unpacking his training bag. 

I slowly take out his dirty clothes and shoved them into the washing machine. Then, his essentials like his phone and other things he normally brings to training. 

The bag is almost empty, and before I put it away, I dive my hand into the bottom of the bag while my fingers are scrambling all along the base of it to find a small bottle. I took it out and read the label. "Vodka"

The bottle was half empty. I was standing in my bedroom while my hands were shaking. I did my best to avoid the sight of them since I joined Manchester. When I spotted one, I promptly looked away and indulged myself in different activities around me trying not to overthink about it. 

I tried to bring my focus back to the surroundings of my room. All I saw was my past. I tried to turn around to see the window. The curtains are drawn and I had no strength to even walk and open them. 

Memories came flooding back into my mind. All I was seeing was the image of my mother, the day I last saw her on the hospital bed. Her sullen face, crumpled up, fed up of the hospital formalities, begging me to take her home. Her tears were wetting my wrists, and half of my sleeve was soaked. Her hair had turned grey over the last few months and her eyes became baggy from the lack of sleep. My sister was sitting in the back of the hospital room while sobbing about my mother. She had a drawing book clasped tightly in her hands, in which the drawings were distorted because of the tears falling on them. I was suddenly brought back to the darkest part of my life that I managed to forget over the past few months. 

I tried to emerge out of that memory and started thinking about the happy Kayla but another memory came back. I started breathing faster. I lowered myself to the ground while my heartbeat raced. I heard the bathroom door open behind me. Phil came rushing to me a second later. 

I was not able to breathe anymore. Phil sat next to me and ran his hand through my hair, "Try to breathe slowly, love... slowly"

He repeated until my breathing goes back to normal, and before it accelerates again, he gives me a hug. Not a normal hug, a protective hug. Like he is showing me that he is here every time. After minutes of no movement, Phil pulled away and pecked me softly on the lips.. He rested his forehead on mine and held the back of my neck gently for support. 

"Calm down, love. It's gonna be okay", he said after. The memories faded away and I snapped back into reality. 

"You okay?", he asked.  His hands immediately cupped my cheeks. "I don't like seeing you like this", he says practically begging my tears to stop falling. I hugged him back while he lifted me from the floor. He brought me to his car and helped me get seated in the car. He wiped my tears with his thumbs and I smiled at him weakly. He gave me a reassuring look.

He closes my door and enters in the seat next to me. He starts the car while I'm still puzzled of what he's doing. "We're going for a long drive", he says while smiling to me. "A very romantic one", he adds. 

It made me smile at him again. 

__________

A/N: I tried my best writing this. If you've made it till the end, I thank you a lot for that. I appreciate it, really. 

Honestly, I never wrote panic attacks before, but I tried my best to do it the way it was described to me by my best friend. 

Also, If this book reaches 50K, I am thinking of writing something a little more special. 

But, if you liked this, please vote on the chapter, It'd make my day.