Fixing Broken Hearts

51

Warnings:
-Intense anger + panic attack

Elliot's POV

No matter how happy I was to leave, that evening I started panicking. The sudden different area made me remember all of my memories, even though I was just as Tristan's and not even my own house.

While I cried loudly, I ran to the bathroom with my phone in my hands, trying not to hyperventilate. I went to my therapist's phone number and clicked it right away because I needed someone and didn't want to bother Tristan and Clay with my stuff all the time.

'Honey, what's wrong?' her voice sounded as soon as she picked up the phone. 'Take deep breaths for me.'

'I c-can't cope, m-my PTSD is s-so bad. I'm h-having flashbacks t-the whole time, I k-keep having p-panic attacks. I don't w-want to bother anyone, b-but I want to run away. I p-promised I wouldn't, b-but I want to. I'm so s-scared, the f-flashbacks are d-driving me insane.'

'Can you tell me what's triggering you so badly right now? Is there a way to make those triggers a bit smaller than they are now?'

'No,' I cried out. 'The h-house triggers me. I a-always ran to Tristan's when I w-was crying or wanted to e-escape. I can't g-go to my own p-place either. I'm on t-the verge of h-hallucinating, I w-want to s-self harm, I need d-drugs to forget. I k-keep seeing it happen over and over.'

'Sweetheart, I think it was too soon to go there,' she replied with an understanding voice.

'But I w-want to be h-here!' I shouted angrily as I kept crying and crying. 'I can't b-be locked in that clinic f-forever. My b-body is locking, I don't think I c-can speak for m-much longer...'

'Honey, I know you don't want to go back to the clinic right now and I think you're stable enough to be away for a weekend, but the surroundings are too triggering. Would you maybe like to stay at my home? It's always so quiet in here and I would love some company from such a sweet boy. Tristan and Clay can come over whenever if you don't feel safe!'

'I would l-love to,' I stumbled, immediately calming down by the thought of not having to be around here anymore. 'I- I- I-.'

'Elliot, you don't have to talk, sweetheart. It's exhausting you, selective mutism is very difficult.'

'B-b-b...' I tried to argue, but she knew what I wanted to say without having to even finish the first word.

'Some people with selective mutism can't speak to certain people, but for you the social aspect isn't the problem here, but the severe anxiety due to PTSD. The selective mutism you know is from social anxiety, but it's both caused by anxiety. You're too anxious to speak right now and that's okay.'

My whole body froze as soon as I realised I was in Tristan's bathroom. I felt my hands shaking severely when I remembered how often I cried in here, hurt myself, hid from the pain and eventually started to escape here in a world of bingeing and throwing up.

I dropped my phone and felt all the pain numbing me, so badly that I felt an intense urge to scream. I couldn't even hold it in anymore and fell down on my knees as I started to scream, louder and full of hidden pain.

The scream was filled with so much pain that my voice broke, yet, I kept screaming and crying at the same time. I beat my fist on the floor, gasped for air and screamed again, hearing my therapist's gentle voice on the phone.

'It's okay to scream it all out, Elliot. I know you've been keeping it inside and have been hurting so much, but you can let it all out. It's okay.'

My throat was sore from my screeching and I knew Tristan and Clay decided to give me some privacy and space, knowing they heard me call my therapist.

I continued to scream and cry and eventually collapsed on the floor while heavily sobbing. That was the moment for Tristan to run in and sit down next to me with his arms around me. He started rocking to calm me down and repeatedly kissed me on my forehead as he wiped my tears.

'Let it go,' he whispered. 'I don't care if you scream or have to punch the crap out of me, I just want you to let it go.'

My sadness suddenly turned into extreme angry. I pulled myself out of his grasp and uncontrollably punched the wall, which at this point, Tristan decided to let me do. He knew I would punch him and had to release my emotions.

I went from punching the wall to screaming again, eventually I even banged my head against the wall and then grabbed my phone to throw it onto the floor. Tristan managed to catch it before it broke into pieces and stood up because he seemed to have an idea in mind.

After a while, he walked back with a pillow and handed it to me, which I immediately started to rip and slam on the floor. I couldn't calm down anymore as all of my pain came out and I completely ripped the pillow apart.

After a while, I collapsed on the floor with the pillow in between my chest and legs. Only now, I started to realise how much my hand was actually hurting and when I glanced at it, it was already swollen and bruised.

'Are you feeling a bit more calm?' Tristan asked carefully as he neared me. I nodded and wiped my tears away, showing him my hand. 'I'll get you some ice to cool it, but maybe we should go to the hospital to make sure it's not broken.'

'Why did y-you not care that I was breaking your stuff?' I whispered with a confused voice. 'I'm just mentally insane.'

'Because I knew you have to get the insane anger out that you have towards your father and everything that happened. I care way less about replaceable things that I care about you.'

'Thank you, Tris... My therapist suggested that I stay with her for a while because this house triggers me too much.'

'That sounds awesome!' he exclaimed, immediately excited and wanting to help me. 'I'll visit you every day, multiple times!'

1100 words