I Can't Breathe

TW (panic attack, mentions of abuse/sexual assault, mention of suicidal thoughts)

DO NOT READ if this could possibly trigger you or harm you in any way.

I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't breathe. What's going on? Why is he here? He can't be here. I'm so confused. I don't know anymore. I need to get out of here. They can't know what's going on. They just can't. What if he does something again? What if he tells everyone what happened. Oh, God. I don't know. I need to get the hell out of here. I can barely stand, but I need to run. I have to - no, I NEED to move. God, what the hell is going on. Help, please. Shit, shit, shit. no, no, no, no, no. He saw me.

His smirk sends shivers down my spine as my feet drag me out of the classroom and towards the bathroom. I hear voices calling out for me, but I pay them no attention. As I stumble my way into the restroom, I fall onto the ground in one of the stalls. The ice-cold floor doing nothing to calm the vicious storm running through my head. My heart is pounding through my chest as tears flood down my face like a waterfall, my world spinning all around me as dizziness overwhelms me. I feel as if I'm no longer in my body, just floating in an empty void as my thoughts consume me. The feeling that I'm going to pass out only grows stronger. I feel like I'm going to die. I barely notice that my hands are shaking intensely as they wrap around my small, thin, shivering frame. I rock back and forth on the ground, unable to bring myself back to reality.

Sweat drips down my face and a crushing feeling lies in my chest as if my heart was about to burst. Breathing is nearly impossible at this point. The blood pounding in my ears prevents any noise from reaching me, allowing my thoughts to be amplified even further. My vision disfigured as it grew darker and narrower, looking almost kaleidoscopic. I squeezed my eyes shut in the hope to feel better, but instead, all I could see were a familiar set of stars flickering in the darkness of my eyelids, doing nothing to help with the insane and immense dizziness that I felt. My stomach began to churn, a need to puke overwhelming my senses. I rush to huddle over the toilet, emptying the small amount of food I was able to consume earlier that day into it. I lean back against the wall once more, returning to somewhat of a fetal position in an attempt to calm down, but to no avail.

Flashbacks of what happened the last time I saw him rush through my mind like a river made violent in a storm that never calms down. I can feel his breath on my neck. His course, rough, hands gripping me tightly, unwavering at my attempts to escape. Bruises formed on my body where he held me. Hot tears streamed down my face as I screamed for him to stop, to let me go. Him yelling at me to shut up and cooperate before slamming me back down onto the cold wood floor of my bedroom. I screamed at the pain searing throughout my body, now mostly in my head. He didn't stop. He never does, but this time was the furthest he had ever gone. I remember how he tore my clothes off my figure, not flinching as I clawed and screamed, doing anything in my power to get him to stop. Then he hit me. He hit me really, really hard. My vision went fuzzy and black, stars dancing across my eyelids as the darkness closed in. I was barely conscious, but I could still feel everything he did to me. Every single thing. It was painful, so very painful, but I couldn't stop him no matter how hard I tried. I was only 14. That was almost a year ago, but he has always had too much power over me, something that has never changed for as long as I can remember, and most likely never will. For what teenager could possibly overpower a grown man?

Regret and shame seep through my body as the memories continue to flash through my mind. Thoughts gnawing at my brain, eating me alive inside out, running so fast that I could barely comprehend all of them, a disorganized chaos, but some were more prominent than others. They were the loudest, and they were relentless in their attempts for me to hear them. Those were the ones that hurt the most. They made me feel like my heart was going to be ripped out of my chest. They were screaming at me. Reminding me of how stupid and naïve I was... I am.

I thought he loved me! How could I be so naïve? Maybe he was the first one to ever say so or to even show it. That's probably why I let him stay for so long. Turns out it was a lie, everything was. Big surprise! He was just using me. I guess I knew that deep down, but I didn't want to accept it because he was so nice at first. At least that's what I thought. How stupid could I be?? I felt safe with him, maybe that's why he so easily tricked me. He was nothing like my father, he was kind and gentle, and he helped me when I was hurt. I didn't know that what he was doing was wrong, at least not at first. I thought It felt nice to be loved for once. I should have known better after he started getting aggressive, I really should've known. The signs were all there, all laid out for me. I could've escaped, I could've, but I didn't. It's all my fault! I should have known better! Of course it's my fault. Why wouldn't it be? I can't do anything right, just like my father has told me countless times over and over again. I'm useless, no good, and oh so many other things. I deserve everything that happened to me.

I'm suddenly brought back into reality as someone calls my name, but I can barely hear anything, the loud ringing in my ears still prominent. I feel a set of hands on my back, but I can't make out who it is. All I can see is their silhouette. I try to speak - to tell whoever it is not to touch me. To get away from me. Not to worry. That if I'm going to die, then it's probably a good thing, that it doesn't matter. But I can't get any of that out, my mouth is dry and my tongue feels like sandpaper. They wrap a jacket around my shoulders and begin to comfort me. They tell me to try to breathe, in and out, in and out, over and over again. I try to do what they are telling me to. In...out...okay, not so easy. My attempts were in vain at first as I couldn't breathe, but slowly it began to take effect. In...out...in...I continuously attempt to repeat this process, over and over and over again until air finally starts to slowly flood into my lungs, my shallow breathing becoming deeper. The jacket they wrapped around me helping immensely with the surge of cold that I feel. My thoughts finally slow down as my panic begins to calm.

Slowly, as I'm still drifting back into reality, I open my eyes. My eyelids, along with the rest of my body, feel extremely heavy from the exhaustion of what just happened. I lean back into the grasp of the person who helped me. I catch a glimpse of their face as I look up, noticing it's my best friend. As I begin to thank her, the realization of what just happened dawns on me. I just had a panic attack. In front of someone. More specifically my best friend. My eyes widen as this realization hits me, scared of what she might say or do, or more specifically what she is thinking. What if she tells someone? What if she makes fun of me? What if she tells everyone? These thoughts and hundreds of others like them start to circle around and around in my head. Clearly, she notices my panic starting to increase again and encases me in a hug before I can say or do anything. I'm too tired to resist, so I just let it happen. I feel a warm sensation drift through me, a sign of the gratitude that I feel toward her. For her being supportive and understanding. As she releases me from the hug, she looks into my eyes, confusion dancing across her emerald ones, clearly wanting to know what caused this episode. I give her a small, sad smile as the tears continue to stream down my face, only slowing down slightly, and say something I never thought I would say, "I promise I'll tell you everything soon."

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AN: Hopefully you liked it! let me know if you want more!

I can't really think of anything else to write, so yeah, hope you are all having a beautiful day :)