Poseidon

Dekatría

Allysia P.O.V.

The woman named Cailey is whispering soothing words to me as she coaxes me from the bed her words washing over me like a warm blanket. My heart, though still slightly frantic had calmed considerably, the panic in my veins just a slight murmur, the adrenaline now just a fraction of what it was when I woke up.

Hermes is standing, almost awkwardly, as Cailey brings me to the edge of the bed waiting for us to be finished so he can presumably talk to me or Cailey about something. Though he looks lost in his own little world, his eyes glazed over and far away as though his body is there but his soul in a different place.

Ever so suddenly his soul returns to his body with an almost visible jolt, his eyes betray his calm facade as they reveal his inner turmoil as though he has just received some frightening news.

Cailey is still slowly bringing me out of bed and tells me she can have a hot bath ready for me if I want it, she never looks me quite in the eyes. It bothers me as, for someone who doesn't speak and doesn't really get spoken to too deeply, I have learnt to read people and their expressions, even the slightest twitch I notice and as people say 'eyes are the window to the soul' and I firmly believe it. Not seeing her eyes doesn't let me read her and that makes me slightly uncomfortable as I can't tell what she's thinking.

I am too lost in thought to pick up on the slight changing in her demeanour and prepare myself for the door slamming open as though hit by a truck.

The sound reverberates through the room and what seems to be the entire building. It sends me reeling backwards to the safe haven of my bed. Yanking the covers up and over my head in an attempt to stay safe, though the logical part of my brain is asking if a sheet can really keep one safe but I choose to ignore it.

My form beings to shake as panic takes a grip on my once again, I feel its fist tightening around my throat and squashing my lungs. I feel its icy fingers trailing through my veins, down my spine into my toes and back to my palpitating heart.

I tell myself to breath, to inhale for 3, hold for 3, exhale for 3. Again. Again, I do this until I retreat into the recesses of my mind to escape the physical pain the lack of oxygen has hit my body with and begin my long ago mantra: My name is Allysia. I grew up in Adelaide, Australia. I now live in Sydney, Australia. I love a man named Sam. Sam is dead. Sam died for me. Sam drowned in the sea, trying to save me. Sam had golden hair. Sam had green eyes. I have brown hair. I have blue eyes. My birthday is January 5th. Sam's birthday is June 16th. My favourite colour is grey blue. My walls at home are painted this colour. I feel most at home in the sea. I have a connection with the sea. The last point broke my inner monologue as it was entirely new and the first beginnings of calm now ran practically screaming from my body. My breathing picked up once again as, my body tries to force itself to make up for the oxygen it is not absorbing and I begin to feel light headed.

As my mantra didn't work I picture my mother's sweet voice in my head, I picture her hands holding my face as she forces me to look at her, to concentrate on her. I feel her comforting, cool hands and hear her peaceful voice telling me to breathe, to inhale for 3, hold for 3, exhale for 3. Inhale for 3. Hold for 3. Exhale for 3. Inhale for 3. Hold for 3. Exhale for 3.

Its working I begin to feel the tingling in my limbs receding and my brain begin to clear.

When my brain has cleared enough form the cloud of panic that I can once again use my senses. I hear the door gently close and the footsteps of someone trying to be quiet. I feel the bed at my feet dip as a large weight presses down upon it.

I untangle myself from the knot of sheets I formed around myself in my panic and take a peek over the top of it to see a man that I have never seen before.

He is large and well built, muscled arms bent, elbows resting on large, muscled, jean clad thighs as they reach back up to a face concealed behind a curtain of golden, shoulder length hair. A strong nose can be seen, slightly crooked as though it has been broken at least once. A tight black t shirt hugs a sinuous torso, stretched taught across a large chest and shoulders so wide it is unreal. This man is god like. At that point it clicked that this man is Poseidon. 

Special dedication to Roses-Are-Black for always being my first voter, and always reading and voting a record breaking minute after I posted this chapter. THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH. MEANS THE ABSOLUTE WORLD!! Makes me a very happy bunny. 

Love Isla-Beth x