Catching My Breath.

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Song of the Chapter: Catch My Breath by Kelly Clarkson. Play the song when you see this symbol #

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I hear the hollers from the crowds and can feel the tension from the game, not that I was paying any attention to it. I was too busy thinking about the horrible things that he was going to do to me after the game. So there I was, teeth chattering from the cold, a bag of low quality popcorn clung to my chest, uneaten of course, with the expression of a lost child.

The whistle blew. Who won? I didn't even care. I just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. I got up to leave, but had to wait, as I was the seat at the top of the bleachers.

A sea of people were trying to leave at the same time and there was so much going on, I felt sick to my stomach.

That was when I realized that everyone had stopped and turned around. Every pair of eyes was on me and I felt extremely paranoid, like each of their eyes were a weapon that was being used on my heart that was already beating as fast as a drum at a rock concert.

That was when I felt the cold hands at my side, pushing me off of the bleachers.

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I woke up with a startle, sitting up right away, as if the fall in my nightmare materialized and hit me right in the chest. Hard.

Sweat was trickling down my forehead and I felt like bursting into tears.

"Why won't you go away!" I screamed at the memories, grabbing my head and plunging face first back into my mattress dramatically.

Just a normal morning.

I could hear Zeus breathing in front of me, like he could read my mind and was telepathically sending me a message, asking me what's wrong.

"I'm going insane," I telepathically answered back in my head, thinking that maybe somehow he could understand.

"Alright, enough of Captain Insane. Time for breakfast," I laughed cheerily and patted the fat dog on the head. He responded by cheekily licking my arm.

"Come on Chubs," I laughed and started walking into the kitchen.

All the memories of the day before flooded back to me once I saw the food I bought at the market the day before in my icebox.

Moving in. Unpacking. Grocery shopping. Alfie. The Grind. Open Mics. Oh my.

I started to think about what song I was going to sing tonight while I poured myself a bowl of cereal. I had a couple ideas, and my OCD self sorted them into two categories; slow and fast. I thought that I would decide which mood I wanted to set once I got there. If they needed to get a party going, fast was the best bet. If they should sit down and enjoy their food, slow was a good choice.

Zeus whimpered at my feet while I stared into my bowl of cereal like a madman.

"Alright, alright. Chill," I muttered and get up to get him his dog food.

The whole of the afternoon droned on, uneventfully. Unpacking galore. In fact, the highlight of my afternoon was killing a rather frightening spider that was vacationing on my toilet seat. How great.

The part of my day that I was most excited about was, of course, the evening.

As I browsed my closet, my eyes locked on my leather disco pants that I bought earlier that year on a whim, that have never been worn. I never thought I could pull them off, but I knew that tonight was the night I was going to try.

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