One More Breath

One More Breath Away chap 1

The sun was beginning to set behind the bleachers, casting long shadows across the track. It had been a brutal practice, the kind that left your muscles sore and your mind fried, but the team had to push through. One more lap.

I could barely make it around the track without feeling like I was suffocating. Each breath I took felt like I was inhaling through a straw. My chest tightened, a pressure that seemed to squeeze the life out of me with every step. The finish line was in sight, but it was a blur—my vision was swimming, my legs felt like they were made of lead.

I can't do it, I thought, a wave of panic crashing over me.

I wheezed again, louder this time, my lungs burning. I could see the others ahead of me, pushing forward, faces set in determination. They were almost done.

I stumbled and almost fell, my body begging for me to stop. I heard Julian's voice, sharp and accusing, cutting through the haze.

"Imrie, you made us lose!"

I looked up to see the other team laughing and celebrating, throwing each other in the air like they'd just won a championship. My team, however, stood still, their expressions unreadable. I could feel their disappointment, though. I couldn't finish the lap.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

I can't breathe.

I stopped running completely, my hands gripping my thighs as I bent over, struggling to catch my breath. But it wouldn't come. The wheezing wouldn't stop. It felt like something was blocking my airways, like a giant fist around my chest, squeezing tighter and tighter.

I heard Coach Wilson's voice, but it felt distant as if coming from underwater.

"Im-, you okay?" His tone was soft, but there was a concern underneath it. "Your face is pink—"

I didn't even look up, focusing all my energy on breathing. The sound of my wheezing was almost deafening.

Cora, always the one to jump into action, turned around and sprinted toward me. She grabbed a bottle from the side of the track and waved it in front of me.

"This yours?" she asked, her voice sharp but worried.

I nodded weakly, the water bottle sparkling in the sunlight as she handed it to me. I took a long sip, the cool water soothing my parched throat, but it didn't help with the tightness in my chest. I could still barely breathe.

But as I leaned against my knee to steady myself, I saw Julian in the corner of my eye, his eyes trained on Cora and the bottle she was holding.

"What?" Cora asked, not missing a beat. "What's your problem?"

Julian crossed his arms, his expression stubborn. "It's just that—"

"Just that what?" Cora interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

Julian rolled his eyes. "You've never seen a boy with a pink water bottle?"

"First of all, I'm not sexist," Cora shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Julian raged" it's my sister's bottle. What's your problem?"

"Oh lord," I muttered, finally able to breathe a little easier. The tension between them had become a daily fixture—Julian and Cora had been at each other's throats for months now, ever since they'd started spending more time together after practice. Honestly, I didn't know how they put up with each other.

I felt a pang of guilt, though. They were arguing, and I was barely able to stand, let alone finish a lap.

"Guys, stop," I gasped between wheezes. "Please, just... stop."