𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 |𝟏𝟖+|

𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐑 𝐓 𝐘 ~ 𝐒 𝐈 𝐗

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-　

✼ N E V A E H ✼

With my gun in hand, I quickly charge back up the stairs and back into the room I just came out of. I know, it's risky and dangerous, and reckless, and I'm basically asking to get killed but I couldn't not know what was going on. Those men, although I knew them briefly, were still my patients and I would treat them like I would any other patient.

I had to make sure they were okay even if it meant that I wouldn't be. When you don't have anyone you would risk your life for, that's when you realize how easy it is to risk your life for someone you don't even know.

I run to the door and thrust it open and I am welcomed by way too many things going on at once. I was gone for less than ten minutes- because I suck at directions and I couldn't find the damn stairs- and the whole room managed to be completely ransacked even though it was already messy.

Not only that but the men I had been taking care of were in worse condition than I had left them. I doubt there was any hope left for them to live. They both had two bullets engraved in their skull. I wanted to fucking cry. If I hadn't left the room, then they wouldn't be dead, if I had just waited for Mike and Jordan to arrive to ask them for the supplies I needed none of this would have happened.

I could've fended off whoever did this for the meantime until someone else took over. I feel a sharp pang in my chest and on my barefoot. I just stepped on a fucking big piece of glass shard that was left scattered on the floor. I scream in pain and lean my back against the wall between the two beds.

That's when I allowed myself to fall apart. Not because of the stupid gash that was currently oozing with blood from my foot right now. But because of the pain I felt inside. I allowed myself to have these moments. These breaking points, where I would let myself completely unfold and unravel, praying that someone would help and catch me from falling into the dark abyss I call my mind.

And all I can do is keep calling, and crying, and screaming, and begging for someone to help me and stop me from drowning in my thoughts. The thoughts, that I'm sure would one day kill me if no one else got the chance to before. These moments only happened whenever I lost a patient.

I like people to think of me as the opposite of who I truly am. I like them to think I can play my emotions off, to think I don't feel or that I am miraculously incapable of feeling anything at all. But in reality, I feel everything. I say I don't care, but when no one's paying attention, I let that thing eat me alive.

I feel the familiar burning of my ears and skin and taste the dryness of my mouth. My heart beats quickens and for a moment I struggle to even find air to breathe. I was either choking on air or my tears, whichever it was, I fucking hated it. It felt like someone had both of their hands around my neck and was squeezing the life out of me every passing minute.

I started to break into sweats and my breathing didn't get much better and neither did the pace of my heart. It was burning now. As if it had just been pierced with something. Something sharp and strong enough it left a hole so deep no person or amount of words could fill in.

The nauseating churning of my stomach doesn't make matters any better. I try to walk to find somewhere I can explode my insides out, but I can't find anywhere. I can't even see or move cleanly. My vision was blurry and my head was pounding so rapidly which was making me dizzy by the minute. I sunk myself into the wall until my whole body hit the ground.

As I let my hands run down my body I am immediately taking back into memories buried far beneath my brain. The memories of the involuntary and unwanted hands that had once etched my skin but had never once asked me for permission to do so. The touch scorched my body and filled every being of my body with nothing but utter hatred. To the innocence that was stolen and robbed for me too early for me to even put a stop to it. 

I am reminded  of how weak I was, how young, stupid, and naive. The person I was before who allowed anyone to do anything to her, to walk all over her and step on her like she was some stupid doormat that they could care less about. Like I wasn't just as much of a human being as them. 

Is that how much I didn't matter?

Is that why I spent most of my career- of my life- making my patients and those I cared for feel like they mattered? To feel like they had someone even though it felt like the whole world was against them. I know what it feels like to have life taken from you at a young age and I know what it feels like to never get it back. 

The tears don't stop rolling down my face and neither does the pounding of my head. I felt like my chest and wind pipe were closing up on me. As if they threatened to leave my body and leave me stuck with no possibility of breathing.

The beating of my heart was so loud that I couldn't even hear footsteps hurriedly approaching my side. I lazily raise my head up, but it feels too heavy for me to keep up so I let it fall back down. I feel hands on me and I want to push them away because I don't know who's touching me but I can't feel any of the muscles in my body.

After a while I can make out the figure and can hear what they're saying. It was Atticus and he was currently crouched by my side with his hand on my face and the other one stroking my hair while my head rested on his lap.

"You're okay, amore. I'm here, okay? You're fine. Just keep breathing. Breathe, okay? Breathe, just keep on breathing. Focus on your breathing, baby."

I try my best to do what he says, but instead of focusing on my breathing, I focus on his voice. It's so soothing and calm that it puts me into a momentary trance that I wish I could stay in forever. If I fall deeper into it, I feel safe. It's like a shield and it shields me from any danger that would possibly come my way.

"You're doing good, baby. I'm proud of you. Just focus on your breathing, you're almost there. I promise. You can get through it," He coos into my ear, brushing the hair away at the same time.

"I- I- I can't." I barely manage the sentence to leave my mouth. My throat was dry and sore and it hurt every time I took a breath or spoke.

He takes a deep breath and pauses for a moment as if he needs to take an eternity to find the right words to say. "Yes you can, amore. I know you can."

For a moment, I think I'm better but the thoughts come back again. "It's all my fault, Atlas. It's all my fault. They're gone because of me. They took them because of me."

I don't think I was talking about the current situation anymore. If Atticus catches on to it, he doesn't pry on it or even mention it, he just continues his soothing circles and massaging on my scalp and caresses my cheek while wiping away my tears with the pad of his thumb.t's

"It's not your fault. Nothing is your fault."I wish that was fucking true. "Everything happens for a reason. Remember that, Stella."

He adjusts himself on the wall, "Focus on me, baby. I'm here for you, okay? Just take slow and deep breaths for me, yeah?"

"It hurts so much, Atlas." I admit, bringing a hand to my chest.

"I know, baby, I know. I wish it didn't, I'm sorry. What can I do to make you feel better?" He asks, placing a kiss on my wet forehead that currently had some of my curls sticking to it as he gently brushed the hair back. 

"Kiss me," I responded. And I don't know whether I should slap myself for saying it or indulge in whatever happens next because of it.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-　

Hiii babes, I missed y'all. IM BACKKKK tho so yeah. This chapter is short, sorry. I will be releasing one chapter a week until everything is fully released from now on. I love you and thank you for all your support <33

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 ➤ 𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄. 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄. &. 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪