TAINTED | Zayn Malik

Chapter 16|Quality

Running.

That's all I see is everybody running within different directions, no one telling me how to escape. The building a few seconds away from collapsing, it wasn't particularly knowable of when it was happening. But you could tell that it was coming, back and forth I was pushed. No one bothering to stop and talk to me, I had so many questions about it all. I could feel myself screaming for help, wanting someone to pay attention to me. But it never came, so I started running.

I could feel myself flying through the crowd, a bunch of them swarming around and knocking into each other. It was horrible, but at the same time, I couldn't feel myself moving. It was like I was trapped, nothing helping me reach the nearest exit. Around that time I could feel rumble underneath my feet, it was coming and I could tell that it would brutal. I was trying so hard and yet, I was being pushed back. Me. Out of every fucking body, I couldn't leave and I wanted to so bad. But my body was immune to leaving, as if I did then I would be dealing with worse.

And suddenly, I hear the cracks and the roar of fire coming alive within the night. I take off in a sudden panic, feeling the need to run again but it wasn't working. At the time I could feel the puddle of sweat beneath my fight, I tried my damn best.

I could see the forms of the building, all of it breaking down one by one as the cracks started deepening in the floor. I could feel the destruction coming so I gave up, I just fall to my knees and cry out. Then I sit and wait for it, the building starts rocking and the flames are now screaming as the voices in my head are overpowering me. It's becoming too strong, the dark gas is fucking with my sense of smell. The dark smoke filling my lungs instead of oxygen, wheezing on nothing but black air and I can feel the tears.

I know it won't end good for me, I can see that much. Hoping that in one way someone will save me from this mass destruction, and it happens... One part of the building breaks, falling off and I could feel the high-speed wind of the storm. I look and see that I'm too far up to save myself, and the rest cracks and I feel myself falling.

"Then I wake up." I finish telling the awful scenarios in my nightmares, hoping that Dr. Malik could give me some clearance on them.

It was our night session, I was perfectly fine with having one in the daytime. But I was more closed off, at night seemed like a better time getting things off my chest. It was more intimate and seemed to make me a tad vulnerable, I felt better this way. This felt more like talking with a good friend about a crazy fucking dream, rather than someone being in charge of my mental being. And that's what she wanted, so once she called me a few days before wondering how our first session would go, I instantly brought up night ones.

Most people found that it was better to open up to someone in the late night hours, you're more open to discussion and decisions. Just like how I picked debating my life issues in the shower, everything felt clearer and I was relaxed. This was a similar moment, sitting down in our pajamas while an old rerun of friends plays in the background with the volume low, a cup of hot tea followed by some cookies and homemade pizza.