WINNING HIS HEART AGAIN

Chapter 4: Panicked Attacks

Avery POV.

The so-called "little party" thrown by Darren's basketball team was anything but small.  It was an extravagant affair, a gathering of the city's wealthy and privileged youth, a cacophony of noise and excess.  The music pulsed through the air, a relentless beat that seemed to amplify the energy of the crowd.  People were everywhere, laughing, talking, drinking, and dancing, their bodies moving in a blur of motion.  Some were swimming in the pool, their laughter echoing through the night, while others were lost in intimate embraces, their bodies intertwined in a display of uninhibited passion.  I couldn't help but wonder why I had agreed to come.  This wasn't my world, this wasn't my scene.

I sat alone at the corner of the bar, my head pounding with the throbbing rhythm of the music.  I had already had more than my fair share of drinks, pressured by the relentless encouragement of the other party goers.  My mind was foggy, my senses dulled, but I was still clinging to a semblance of control.  I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so out of place, so uncomfortable, so utterly lost.

Where was Sofia?  I had no idea.  She had abandoned me, claiming she was going to "hunt for a pretty guy."  I sighed, my frustration growing with each passing moment.  I just wanted to escape, to disappear into the night, to be anywhere but here.

"Hi there, Campus Beauty,"

A voice said, breaking through the din of the party.  I turned to see one of Darren's teammates approaching me, his eyes glazed over with what appeared to be a mixture of alcohol and admiration.

I forced a smile, my gaze darting around the room in search of Sofia. 
I needed to get out of here, and I needed to find her.  I felt a sudden surge of panic, a feeling of fear that had become all too familiar.

"Mind if you join me for a dance?"

he asked, his voice slurred and unsteady.  Before I could respond, he reached out and pulled me towards him, his hand gripping my waist.  My eyes widened in alarm, my heart pounding in my chest.

"What the hell are you doing?"

I demanded, struggling to break free from his grasp.  But my strength was failing me, my body heavy and uncoordinated.  My head was spinning, my vision blurring.  I hated the feeling of being drunk, the way it made me feel vulnerable, exposed.

"Come on, don't be a killjoy,"

he said, his voice thick with alcohol.  He pulled me closer, his face inches from my neck.  His breath was warm against my skin, his touch sending shivers down my spine.  A wave of fear washed over me, a primal instinct that had been dormant for years, but now it was back, stronger than ever.

The images of my past flashed before my eyes, vivid and terrifying.  My room.  The darkness.  The man in black.  His hands on me, his touch violating my body, his voice a cruel whisper in my ear.  I could feel his breath on my neck, his touch on my skin, the pain, the fear, the helplessness.

"I... I can't br... brea... breathe,"

I gasped, my voice barely audible.  I tried to push him away, but he was too strong.  I felt trapped, suffocating, my body frozen in fear.

Air. I need air!

"Breathe, Avery! Breathe. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, please..." 

I didn't know whose voice it was, but it was familiar, a lifeline in the darkness.  But my mind was racing, my thoughts spiraling out of control.  I was losing it, losing myself, slipping back into the abyss of my past.

And then, everything went black.

-
TIME SKIP.

I woke up to the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room.  The memory of the party, the panic, the fear, the darkness, flooded back, a wave of nausea washing over me.  I looked around, my eyes searching for a familiar face.  And there, sitting by my bedside, was my mother, her face etched with worry.

"Mom," I whispered, my voice trembling.  I reached out to her, my body shaking with a mixture of fear and relief.  She pulled me into her arms, and embraced a source of comfort and strength.

"Hush, sweetheart. Mommy is here.  Tahan na anak," she said, her voice soothing and calming.  She rubbed my back gently, and touched a balm to my troubled soul.

"Mom, how long did I black out again?" I asked, my voice filled with a mixture of fear and frustration.

"Don't worry, anak.  You had a panic attack last night.  You didn't sleep for long, shhh,"

She said, wiping away my tears.

I sighed in relief.  I had been terrified that I had lost track of time again, that I had been lost in the darkness for days, weeks, months.  But it had only been a night, a single night of terror and despair.

"Mom, how am I so weak?"
I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

How did I even survive until now?  I'm 18 years old, but because of my mental condition, who knows if I could ever date someone?  Who's stupid enough to be with someone who feels terrified with physical intimacy?

I felt a wave of despair wash over me, a sense of hopelessness that threatened to consume me.  I longed to be free of my past, to be free of the fear that haunted my every waking moment.  I wanted to be able to love and be loved, to experience the joy of intimacy without the accompanying terror.  But it was a dream, a distant hope that seemed to fade with each passing day.

"If only I could overcome my fear," I thought, my voice was a silent plea. 

"If only I could get rid of my trauma.  If only I could finally get out of my past.  I don't even know if it's possible to grow old with someone anymore.  Let alone build a family of my own.  I doubt it's even possible."

I closed my eyes, my tears falling silently.  I was trapped in a prison of my own making, a prisoner of my past, a victim of my own fears.  And I didn't know if I would ever be free.