𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗘𝗡, 𝗧𝗘𝗡 𝗧𝗢 𝗢𝗡𝗘

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Chapter One

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Chapter One

     𝗜'𝗠 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔 panic attack, my is body growing faint as my vision blurs

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𝗜'𝗠 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔 panic attack, my is body growing faint as my vision blurs. My hands are shaking uncontrollably, and it feels like the fabric of my clothes is constricting around me, tighter and tighter. My tears are like curtains drawn over a window, obscuring everything in front of me.

With what little coherent thought I have left, I try to count.

One to three, four to seven, seven to ten. I take a breath in, and release it at the end of each three counts, but it feels like I'm drowning in air.

Needles prick at every inch of my skin, a sensation that sends heat flushing through my entire body.

I know I'm having a panic attack. The feeling never gets old; it always finds a new way to torture me, each episode more intense than the last.

On the second round of breaths, reaching eight, my head begins to pound with a ferocity that blinds me to my surroundings.

I have no idea where I am, what I was doing—my mind just can't process it.

What if I'm in the middle of the street, acting hysterical? I try and try and do something—anything about it, but my strength is abandoning me; always when I need it most.

I lift my hands to my eyes, trying to wipe away the remnants of my tears. Soon enough, embarrassment creeps in.

I can't bear the thought of anyone seeing me like this. Not here, not now.

I keep counting, but nothing alleviates the terror gripping my body and mind. Sweat now drips down my back, making everything worse. The more aware I become of my surroundings, the more the stress intensifies.

"Rome? Oh my—James, help me," a voice breaks through the haze. I look up, my tears slowing. I wipe away the rest and see the figure of a lanky woman.

Ingrid?

Her voice is familiar but muffled, like it's coming from underwater.

A tiny boy joins her as they peer down at me, their shadows providing a sliver of shade from the relentless sun. The woman attempts to lift me carefully, and I follow without much resistance.

Let the Sun Be Seen;  Kenji KishimotoWhere stories live. Discover now