"Lie to me," he whispered. His face was so close and I couldn't breathe.
"Lie to me and tell me you don't want me as much as I want you. Lie to me and tell me you don't want to press those pretty lips of yours to mine right now. Lie to me and tell m...
「 thirty-seven ♥ she looked like a dream 」 tw: panic attacks
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ten years ago
Mom was crying.
Everett looked so pale.
My hands were shaking. My heart felt like it would beat straight out of my chest.
Breathe, I told myself, but my lungs stopped working. It felt as if a hand reached inside of me and stole the oxygen, and I was falling, falling, falling.
I was on the ground, choking, gasping. Hands were on my arms, my face, but my view was blurred. Water - no, tears - streamed down my cheeks and I was shaking. I couldn't stop, couldn't breathe, couldn't think.
My head hurt. I felt like I was going to vomit even though I was on an empty stomach. The world was spinning. Where was I? Where was everyone?
"It's okay," I heard someone say, over and over again, like a chant. It echoed in the chambers of my head, in the body that wasn't mine. I looked around with eyes that didn't belong to me, that I didn't deserve.
"Rowen!" Another person said, but I was shaking my head. No, no, no. This was just a dream. It wasn't real.
I killed him. I killed him.
The realization pulled me back to reality. Everett was kneeling in front of me, shaking me. My mother was standing behind him, her eyes red with tears.
"Sorry," I said, shaking out of my brother's grip and fisting my hand to stop it shaking. To stop my entire body from shaking. "Sorry," I said again when I saw their horrified faces. I walked away from them even as they called after me. I needed to go to my room.
When I shut my door, I practically fell against it. My heart was racing and I couldn't stop it. I curled my legs into my body as if I could stop the shaking. Anxiety gnawed its way into my head, whispering into my ear.
Your fault, they told me. Poor, poor Rowen. It's all your fault. You killed your own father.
I pressed my hands against my ears. Stop, I begged. Stop these voices.
But they didn't cease. They haunted me, wielding swords that cut into my thoughts, bleeding words that stained my sanity.
"Rowen!" A knock on my door, but I couldn't stand. My legs felt broken, my eyes stung. "Rowen. Open up. It's Everett."
I couldn't stop the shaking. I tried to answer but my mouth was too dry and the words refused to form on my tongue.
Idiot, the voices said. Pathetic, fucking dumbass. You're so weak.
"Rowen, I'm going to come in if you don't answer me."
