after the death of her mother, leighton's father sends her to a boarding school halfway across the world to be taught a lesson. she knows no one and no one knows her.
but the cherry on top is who her roommate is.
#2 in ptsdawareness
#2 in anxiety
#...
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The harsh blare of sirens slices through the fog of my consciousness, a discordant symphony that pulls me from the peaceful, warm light I had just been enveloped in. My body feels heavy, weighed down by a dull, persistent ache.
The once soft, airy feeling of floating has been replaced by the cold, hard reality of the ambulance. I'm jolted back to the present, the serenity of the light now just a fading memory.
My eyes flutter open, and I'm met with the sterile, bright lights of the ambulance.
The air is frigid, filled with the metallic tang of medical equipment and the sharp scent of antiseptic.
My chest heaves with every breath, each inhale a struggle, each exhale a release of relief. The sounds around me are chaotic—voices talking urgently, the beeping of a heart monitor, the rustling of medical gear being shuffled.
I turn my head slightly, trying to get my bearings.
The paramedics are working quickly, their faces focused and serious. I catch glimpses of their movements—a mask being adjusted, IV fluids being monitored, a stethoscope pressed against my chest. Their hands are deft and practiced, but their eyes betray a hint of concern.
"Hang in there, sweetie," one of them says, her voice steady but laced with worry. I can't see her face clearly through the haze of pain and confusion, but her tone is reassuring. "We're getting you to the hospital. Just stay with us."
I try to respond, but my throat feels raw, and no words come out.
I can barely move, my limbs feeling like they're made of lead. I feel a sharp sting in my arm as the IV needle injects fluid, and I wince, but it's a distant sensation compared to the whirlwind in my mind.
Memories of the ocean, the wave, and the tranquil light flood back to me, mixing with the reality of the ambulance.
The warmth of my mom's presence lingers, a haunting reminder of what I've just lost and what I'm being pulled away from. I want to go back to that peaceful place, to her, but the reality is sinking in. I'm not there anymore; I'm here, fighting for my life.
I glance out the small window of the ambulance, watching the world rush by in a blur of lights and shadows.
The city's landscape flashes by, a series of moments that seem to stretch into infinity. Each second feels like a lifetime as I'm transported through the night, every bump and jostle making me acutely aware of my own fragility.
Despite the chaos around me, a sense of clarity emerges. I think of Kai, of the moments we've shared, and the unresolved feelings that had been pushed aside. I think of Bailey, who had been there with me, and of the life I've been trying to piece together. The vision of my mom, her reassuring smile and loving touch, becomes a guiding force, pushing me to hold on.
The ambulance slows, and the beeping of the heart monitor quickens. I can hear the paramedics speaking in urgent tones, their voices a mix of reassurance and haste. "We're almost there, love" one of them says. "Just a few more minutes."
