Are You Afraid of Musicals?

Chapter 6.6: Breaking Point

Dani's pov:

And then the car... it's gone.

Just like that, it's gone.

I don't even notice at first, because I can't see it. Everything around me suddenly blurs and I don't know where the car went or what it did. I don't even know if it stopped or if it turned or if it sped away.

I just see him.

Everything's fading, blurring, slipping through my fingers. The world, the air, the sounds... everything around me is slowly vanishing, but I'm still able to see his little body curled up there, completely still in the middle of the street, as if it was some kind of cruel punishment.

But I don't move. I don't rush over him to see if thanks to some miracle he's ok, I don't even scream or run or cry. I can't. Because I'm here, but I'm not.

I'm stuck.

I just stand there, my body not listening, my mind too slow to understand as if time wasn't working right anymore.

Because It's dragging. Stretching. Folding in on itself.

Just like what happened.

It was not fast, none of it was. The moment stretched out so long it felt fake. Like I was watching it happen in a dream I couldn't wake up from, as if the world had suddenly decided to move in slow motion just to make sure I saw everything.

And I did.

And then everything around me just... started vanishing.

I feel like I'm underwater, the world heavy and muffled, everything distant and unreachable, like I'm looking through a fog that I can't touch. And I should be crying, I should be screaming, I should be doing something, but I can't.

Because everything's so overwhelming, too much. Too fast, too slow, too loud, too quiet. I feel dizzy and lightheaded, like my whole body's not even mine anymore and I can't feel my fingers or my legs as my chest is so tight it might implode.

But I can't make it stop. I can't make anything stop.

I'm trapped inside a body that does not feel like mine anymore, that I can't control as the fog around everything becomes thicker.

And then a realization is suddenly able to cut through that fog, a realization that hits me like a bullet to my chest but that I can't fully understand either.

He's gone.

That's it.

The realization crashes into me like a wave, and I don't even know how to process it.

He's gone.

He's not going to sprawl out across my textbooks like he's trying to stop me from studying, looking at me with those beautiful blue eyes I couldn't deny anything to.

He's not going to jump up onto the bed the second I comply and lie down, like he's been waiting all day just to curl against my ribs and purr.

He's not going to fall asleep on my chest with his little paws tucked under his chin, making me afraid to move even an inch because I don't want to wake him.

He's not going to curl up on my lap during the worst part of my day and make it better just by being there.

I can't think straight. I can't put words to any of it.

I want to scream, but it's like my throat is shut down.I want to move, but it's like I'm chained to the ground, frozen, unable to get up or do anything.

I don't even feel the pain when my knees hit the ground, because it doesn't matter. I don't feel it. I don't feel anything.

Everything's gone so quiet inside me, like someone flipped a switch and turned the whole world down to static, like someone just turned the day into a moonless night.