Billie sat at her desk in the back of the classroom, trying to focus on the math problems in front of her. Her pencil trembled in her hand, and she pressed her lips tightly together, her jaw clenched as she forced herself to stay quiet. Her body felt like a coiled spring, wound so tightly that any moment it might snap. The urge to let out her tics was overwhelming, but she fought it with everything she had.
School was always the hardest place for Billie. She could feel the eyes of her classmates on her, even when they weren’t looking. They didn’t understand her Tourette syndrome, didn’t get why she sometimes had to twitch her shoulder or make a noise. Some days were better than others, but today wasn’t one of those days. Today, the tics were bubbling just beneath the surface, threatening to explode.
"R-r-r—" She barely caught the vocal tic before it escaped her lips. It was one of the more recent ones, a stuttering sound that she hadn’t quite gotten control over yet. Billie dug her nails into her palm, the pain helping her focus on something other than the urge to tic.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, and Billie let out a silent breath of relief. She gathered her things quickly, eager to escape the confines of the classroom. As she walked to the door, she kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone. She could feel the pressure building inside her, like a dam about to burst. Just a little longer, she told herself. Just hold on a little longer.
The car ride home was a blur, her mother Maggie’s voice a comforting murmur as she asked about her day. Billie nodded along, giving short answers, her thoughts focused on getting home. As soon as they pulled into the driveway, she bolted out of the car, racing to the front door.
Finneas was in the living room, strumming his guitar, when Billie burst through the door. He looked up, immediately sensing that something was wrong. “Billie?” he asked, his voice gentle.
She didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. The moment she was safely inside, the dam broke. Her body jerked violently, her head snapping to the side as a loud, involuntary grunt escaped her lips.
“F—f—f—” She tried to suppress the vocal tic, but it was no use. It came out in a sharp burst, echoing through the room.
Maggie hurried in behind her, her face full of concern. “Oh, honey,” she said softly, reaching out to touch Billie’s shoulder.
But Billie flinched away, her arm flapping uncontrollably as another series of tics took over. Her whole body seemed to be at war with itself, muscles twitching and contracting in a chaotic rhythm. The vocal tics came fast and hard, a mix of grunts, squeaks, and half-formed words that she couldn’t control.
“F—f—f—” Billie tried to speak, tried to tell them she was okay, but the words got stuck, replaced by the stuttered tic.
Finneas put down his guitar and moved closer, his face etched with worry. “What can I do?” he asked, feeling helpless as he watched his sister struggle.
Maggie wrapped her arms around Billie, pulling her into a tight hug, but even that didn’t stop the tics. Her body jerked in Maggie’s embrace, her head snapping back as she let out another loud grunt. Tears streamed down her face, the frustration and exhaustion finally overwhelming her.
“I’m here, Billie,” Maggie whispered, her voice soothing. “It’s okay, baby. Let it out.”
Billie sobbed, her body convulsing as the tics continued, each one more intense than the last. Finneas hovered nearby, unsure of how to help. He knew there was nothing he could do to stop the attack, but he wanted to do something, anything, to make it easier for her.
After what felt like an eternity, the tics began to subside. Billie’s body still twitched, but the violent jerks had eased into smaller, more manageable movements. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her throat raw from the vocal tics.
