Power

Part 9

 TW: panic attacks, icky description of injury

When I woke up, I felt dizzy and my head was pounding. I touched my forehead and startled. I felt a sudden pain take over the dull one which hurt like a bruise to my bones. My hair was sticky with blood and red streams still dripped on the bathroom floor. I got up, shaking, gripping the edge of the sink tightly, trying to stand up. 

I looked in the mirror. I was pale as a ghost, my darkish hair strands now stuck together and a huge, nasty cut on my forehead. I looked at it and felt sick.

I searched in the cupboard under the sink until I found some gauze. I bandaged my wound, wrapping the gauze tightly around my head a few times. It wasn't perfect, but the pressure kept it from bleeding. 

I wanted to go outside. Inside the apartment, I felt like an animal trapped in a cage. I pressed my head to the door and heard the girls chattering. So that exit was a definite no. It then struck me. We were on the first floor. I could jump out the window, walk around the neighborhood and return late at night, when they were all asleep. I could wake up early in the morning, get to school by 7, and do my homework there. That way I didn't ever have to face the girls again. Sounded like a good plan to me.

I stepped on the edge of the bathtub, grabbed the window sill and pulled myself up. The window was really small, but I've gotten really skinny during this last month, so I could most likely fit. I lifted my leg up, as high as I could and stepped over the window frame, so I was now standing with one leg outside and another inside.

All of the sudden, I see the door opening.

I quickly throw my other leg over the frame and jump out the window.

The ground was further away than I thought. I landed on the pavement and then lost my balance. I gripped the edge of the wall as I fell, scraping my knees against it's rough surface. Great, more blood. At least the pain couldn't even compare the one in my forehead. The sudden landing caused my whole head to pulse.

I catch my breath and then start walking with no destination in mind.

Outside it was a little cold and I was still shaken up from the events, so my legs were shaking as I was trying to walk. I took a few deep breaths. My whole body felt sore. My clothes were dirty with blood, my hair was inexplicable and I had a bloody bandage on my head. Obviously, I turned quite a few heads while walking around the block. Some nice people stopped to ask me if I was ok, but I told them I fell and my mom was on her way to pick me up.

Every step I took, I started to feel more nauseous. At one point, I felt like throwing up again, so I stopped and leaned against a wall, cold sweat dripping down my spine. Shivering, I clenched my teeth to not let anything come out. There were no other people on the small street, so I collapsed on the pavement, hands pressed hardly against my forehead, trying to stop the shooting pain in my skull. I felt like I was gonna pass out.

 I was gasping from the pain, swinging back and forth. Hot, salty tears started rolling down my cheeks. I started to sob quietly, my whole body shaking as I hyperventilated. It wasn't because of the pain. My body can usually take a pounding. Wish I could say the same about my mind. Right now, I was so scared and broken on the inside, I felt like I couldn't survive this. I felt like I was gonna die. Right there, right that moment. I almost wished that would happen. If there was a Heaven out there, I don't think anyone smashed your head to the sink there.

                                                                                          ****

I don't know how long I've been collapsed there, unable to stop the deadly cycle in my head that made me feel like I was going insane. My lips and hands were tingling and numb, my head was spinning, my chest felt tight and my breathing fast and shallow. I was gasping rapidly, my eyes wide open, hands grabbing my hair in an attempt to calm down.

"Hey, kid." I hear a soft voice above me. I snap out of the panic attack.

I look up. Damn it, it was Tony Stark. He wasn't wearing his Iron Man suit, just a t-shirt and some jeans, but I recognized him by his voice. My stomach twisted. I hated the way we caught me in my most vulnerable moments. No one was supposed to see me letting my guard down. I started to feel angry.

I close my eyes and start rubbing my forehead. I sigh.

"I'm fine".

He measured me with (yet again) a concerned look, his eyes stopping on my bandage.

"You don't look fine" he said. "Or is that Kool-Aid?" he asked.

"Very funny. I'm OKAY, really". I say tiredly.

"Can I see?" he asked gently, pointing to my head.

I hoped I'd get him to go away, so I said:

"Fine".

He carefully removed the improvised bandage. I expected him to gross out, but his expression remained neutral. I thought I saw his eyes darken a little with concern, but it could've just been my face. I seem to trigger this feeling in people lately.

"That's kinda nasty. How'd you get that cut?"

"I slipped in the bathroom and hit my head on the edge of the bathtub" I lied.

I don't think he bought it, but he didn't ask any other questions.

"You'll need stitches for that".

I looked down.

"We've got a doctor at the Avengers Tower. His name's Bruce. He can stitch you up, if you want".

"You know, I'm not supposed to go anywhere with strangers."

"...Not strangers. Avengers!"

"Same difference".

"Then we still have to call an ambulance and get you to the hospital".

"No way!" I say defensively and try to stand up. I lose my balance.

He grabs me before I fall. 

"You have to chose, kid. I don't want you passing out on the street."

I frown.

"Why do you even care?" I ask.

"...I have my moments of empathy".

I roll my eyes. I guess a superhero's tower was better than the hospital, where I would have to let the school know what happened to me.

"Fine, show me this Bruce guy".

I hate asking for help, but he is right. I should probably be checked for a concussion and get stitched up. I leaned on him for support as I tried to take a step. His strong arm was wrapped around me. I had to admit. I felt pretty safe. God, I hated this whole thing.