Rebecca's heart exploded.
She's thrown backward, tripping over her own feet until she hits the floor, her head slamming onto the ground, her arms doing little to break her fall. It's pain like she's never known it, pain she never thought she could feel, never would have imagined.
So this, she thinks, is what it feels like to die.
She's blinking and it seems to take forever. She sees an unfocused series of images in front of her, colors and bodies and lights swaying, stilted movements all blurred together. Sounds are warped, garbled, too high and too low for her to hear clearly.
There's suddenly a face in front of her.
Rebecca tries to concentrate on the shape, the colors, trying to bring everything into focus but it's too difficult and suddenly she can't breathe, suddenly she feels like there are knives in her throat, holes punched into her lungs, and the more she blinks, the less clearly she's able to see.
Soon she's only able to take in the tightest breaths, tiny little gasps that remind her of when she was a child, when the doctors told her she suffered from asthma attacks. They were wrong though; her shortness of breath had nothing to do with asthma. It had to do with panic and anxiety and hyperventilation. But this feeling she was feeling right now is very similar to what she felt back then.
Her lungs feel like they're just closing up. She feels the dizziness take over, the light-headed feeling take over. And the pain, the pain, the pain. The pain is terrible. The pain is the worst. The pain never seems to stop.
Suddenly she's blind. She feels rather than see the blood, feels it leaking out of her as she blinks and blinks and blinks in a desperate attempt to regain her vision. She sees nothing but the outline of that face. Feels nothing but the hand of someone trying to plug up the wound. Hands are on her face. Shaking her. Trying to reel her back to them. She didn't have to have vision to know who that was though. She had felt those hands before.
Rebecca tried to reach for the light, for the person screaming her name over and over and over, and trying to contain her blood over and over and over.
But the darkness finally took over. She took one more tiny breath. And it's too bad she's already close to dead.
YOU ARE READING
Addicted{Brollins}
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