Struggling to Breathe

Aqua

I had never been sure why my father had loved driving around that neon van everywhere he was asked to go as a child. Once I was told it was an ambulance, (At first pronounced "Am-du-bance?") I quickly learned it was because he loved to help people.

I sat in my first ambulance when I was younger, there were pictures literally staining the walls with my face. There's an 'adorable' video of me getting into an ambulance after learning how to crawl, which was a large feat for a three year old.

But school was getting hard for me. I found it hard to keep friends there, because I really wasn't interesting... so I mainly hung out around with others...

But then it all changed.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

"Robert?" The teacher called. I looked up as Rob O'Neill walked up to the top of the class room and got his test results off Miss Keegan.

"I can't even breathe, I'm so going to fail this," Jane said from behind me, whispering to her best friend, Saoirse.

Saoirse whispered back loudly, "Oh my god same here, I'm doomed." I rolled my eyes slightly as she had bragged to Jane none than twenty minutes ago that she had gotten all A's in her Christmas exams.

"Saoirse?" The teacher called, and I heard the chair screech behind me. I sighed and put my head on my desk, scribbling little senseless doodles all over the page.

I was so unnoticed in school, that I couldn't even be bullied, because no one got close enough to me to even mock me. I hated social media, and any form of technology really, so being 15 around here wasn't too easy.

"Em... Marcus?" I glanced beside me as the only human being I could decently make eye contact with was called by Jane.

I rubbed my eyes and sat back, looking at the clock and counting down.

Four... three... Two... One... Hmm...

The Bell went off one second late, and I stood up, grabbed my bag and walked out at a slow pace, making sure I didn't call any attention to myself.

I reached my lockers and sat on the bench as I waited for everyone to finish at their own so I could get in at my own locker. Soon the number 365 was visible, so I crouched down and opened it. I grabbed my essential books and piled the others back in. I closed it carefully and stood up, walking out of the school and down the road, towards the town.

"Sebastian!" I heard a young voice call. I winced at my name and turned towards the monster that was running my way. I sighed.

"Fern, I don't want you yelling my name, you know I hate it whe-"

She threw herself against me and I caught her, smiling slightly. Fern was my adopted sister, only 6. She grabbed my arm and began to run. I laughed slightly and ran with her. We flew by the rows of houses, all of which were side by side. We finally reached the end of the rows of houses and found our beautiful blue two storey home, the very last house on the block.

Fern swung the door open and it hit against the picture frame of the two swans, yet again, adding to the cracked woods damage. I wiped my feet off the mat, shutting the door behind me carefully and locking it with ease.

"Sebby? Fern?" Mam called from the kitchen. I had always wondered why she had given us such awful names. My mother loved Shakespeare, and so I was named Sebastian, after Viola's twin in 'The Twelfth Night"... Fern was adopted from America, so she got an American style name. Thanks, mam, make me the confusing one.

"Fern, sweetie, how was school?" She asked as I placed my bag beside the stairs and walked into the kitchen at the end of the narrow hall.

"Good," Fern smiled as she sat up at the table and began to colour in some pictures from her pink princess colouring book. I walked over to Mam and started putting away dirty dishes she left around the kitchen. She was making lasagne again, and I could smell it with glee.

I set the table (careful of Fern's art) and helped mam dish out the servings. I gave Fern her food and she ignored it at first, utterly focused on her art work. I sat down and dug in, carefully watching mam as she sat down beside me. We ate in relative silence, until the backdoor was opened and shut, and boots were dragged against the mat.

"Oh, Gareth!" Mum yelped and stood up, grabbing a plate of food and stuffing it in the microwave for twenty seconds. Dad laughed and walked into the kitchen, wearing his uniform proudly... that is, every part of it bar the blood on his white shirt.

"Daddy, why is there blood on your shirt?" Fern asked without even hesitating.

Da looked down and laughed slightly, touching the stain with his finger tips. "I had to deal with an old teenager today, and he hesitated the needle, much to the irony, and he pierced his skin. Sorry kids, I didn't want you two seeing this," he explained as he walked out of the kitchen and stomped up the stairs in his steel toed boots.

"Sebastian, honey, can you pass me the parmesan please," mam asked, walking me out of my trance. I nodded and handed it to her mutely, returning to my food.

When I was finished, I walked up the stairs and into my room, the second one to the left of the hall. It wasn't big, all it held was my single bed, my study desk, a built in wardrobe and one window. Of course, I'd tried to make it more interesting by adding shelves and posters all over the walls...

I walked over to the mirror and fixed my black, emo style hair. I brushed it back and stared into my strikingly blue eyes. My pale skin stood out against my dark clothing. I wore a Bon Jovi shirt that had been given to me as a gift, my grey, ripped jeans and my heavy duty black boots that my dad used to wear, which he had given to me.

I kicked off the boots and fell back onto the bed, staring up at the electric guitar that hung on the wall. The temptation to play it was strong... but I just put on my earphones and listened to some senseless loud music instead.

As I did every day.