Misprinted Lies (Alice in Chains/Bruno Mars)

Devil's Grip

A couple of days after she got out of the hospital, Lily came over to my house and hung with me and the guys. I kept an eye on her, especially knowing that she had such bad anxiety. She wasn't herself; she was very jumpy. Every time her phone rang or someone said her name, she nearly freaked out. The signs were all clear to me at this point. I asked her over and over if she was okay, but she kept denying it.

Moments later, after everyone left, she disappeared. I checked the main bathroom but she wasn't there. I heard her heavy breathing in the bathroom of a guestroom. I quickly went back to the kitchen to get her a glass of water, holding a cigarette in between my fingers. When I came back, I knocked lightly, hoping, just... hoping.

"Lil, you need me to come in there?"

"Yeah," she said surprisingly.

When I walked in, she was sitting at the edge of the tub, leaning her head against the tile, just trying to catch her breath. One foot was in the tub and the other on the floor. I sat beside her. Her hands held onto the tub so tight that her knuckles were white. This whole thing was out of control. All this time in the hospital was making it so easy to figure out what was wrong, without having to ask her anymore. For this I was grateful, because usually she wouldn't tell me anyway. One day she would tell me when she felt scared, or sick, or both. I wasn't exactly sure why after all those years she still chose to be more reclusive.

The doctors gave me advice with how to help her through a panic attack. Why couldn't they be the ones who could get rid of the panic attacks altogether? One of the things they told me was to not tell her to relax or calm down or tell her she's okay, as if I had any other words to use. Those words came naturally to me.

This was definitely a panic attack. They didn't always have a warning sign or a trigger. They just happened. The previous incident was still fresh in my mind. Something else they told me was to ease into everything and get a feel for how she acting. At this moment, I couldn't tell and I couldn't read her.

Her whole body was shaking and sweating profusely.

"Here," I said, holding out the water. "Take a sip."

"Thanks," she smiled, taking the glass.

Her hands shook so hard, that she dropped the glass and a million shards exploded all over the floor.

"I'm...I'm sorry," she whimpered.

"It's okay." The lump in my throat was so big. "I'll go get ya another one," I said, standing up from the tub.

"Stay...please" she pleaded quietly, grabbing my arm.

I sat back down after throwing the cigarette in the sink. "Sure, Lil. Of course."

She swung her leg over and scooted closer to me. I was tempted to rub her back but she was still shaking and I didn't want to set her off again.

"What can I d..."

Lily put one arm around me, and then the other, clinging to me. Her hyperventilating was tormenting her and I could barely listen to it. I slowly wrapped my arms around her. I so badly wanted to tell her she'd be okay, or to relax, but I held her instead. I held her for a while. The guys all left; I heard cars driving off.

My face was buried in her hair as she continued to cry and shake. "Sh..." I whispered over and over as I rocked her side to side. "I'm right here."

I loosened my grip a little to adjust and she squeezed me hard.

"Don't...don't let go yet," she said, her voice muffled into my shirt.

"I won't. I gotcha, Lily."

After a lot of time, after two hours, her grip got loose and her crying stopped. This vicious devil finally let go of her. She wiped off her tears with her sleeve. They just kept falling; getting rid of them was like trying to fix a leaky faucet.

"Thanks Bruno."

"You're welcome," I said smiling even though it felt like the hardest thing to do. The thank you was unnecessary. It was a miniscule effort in comparison to what I owed to her.

Lily got up and headed toward the living room. It was so quiet. Geronimo was asleep on the couch. She grabbed her jacket and phone. I took her by the arm. She jolted a little.

"Sorry, Lil," I said softly, letting her go. "Hey how bout you stay over t'night?"

It was so late.

"No, it's...it's alright. I just wanna go...go...go home."

"Are you feeling better?" I asked, opening the front door.

"Yeah...I'll...I'll be...yeah I'm better," she said quietly.

I walked her out to the driveway, giving her a final hug goodbye. I wanted to hold her for the rest of the night. She was so shaken still that she dropped her keys and phone on the ground. 

"Can I drive ya home at least?" I asked, picking them both up.

"No, but thanks Bruno. Thank you for everything. You've already done too much."

Two years ago, I slapped this girl across the face when she was trying to help me. The last thing Lily probably wanted to do was pick up the same poison that killed her dad. She did it anyway though, because she cared about me. I hadn't done enough for her.

She hopped into her truck and I went inside. Minutes later, I didn't hear her leave; that engine was so big it made a lot of noise. I peeked out from the curtains; she was still there, the outdoor lighting shining brightly inside her car.

Her head was down and she was bawling into her hands, hard. She drove away before I made it back outside. I knew it wasn't over.

"Awww jeez, Lily," I said out loud to myself looking out into the dark driveway.

I sent her a text.

Me: If you need me, for anything... just let me know...you wanna turn around and come back here...do it

I waited up for hours. I waited up until the sun began to rise and the birds began to sing. They seemed quieter than usual. As I stood at the front of the house, I'd hoped she'd respond, but she never did.

A/N: Just wanted to thank everyone for all the support!