Help! I'm Falling. - Sanders Sides

Chapter Eleven

Missy came rushing into the room, her eyes had fear striking through them.

Patton looked up, "Missy, what's wrong?" he asked, still trying to comfort Roman.

"I- it's- uh- Anx..." Missy collapsed on the floor, she was curled in a ball.

Roman looked up from the table at the other trait on the floor.

"What is wrong with Anxiety, don't say nothing is wrong because I know something is and I know he's not in his room because you just came from there." Roman said, getting up and going over to the other trait.

Logan stood there with his hand on his forehead, "How have you all not seen it yet?" he said.

Roman placed a hand on Missy's shoulder and she looked up at him.

"Missy, why are you wearing Anxiety's jumper?" Logan asked, looking sceptically at her.

"..." Missy tried to talk but it just resulted in more tears falling down her cheeks, she curled back up, trying to tuck her head further into the jumper.

Roman glanced at Logan, "Come on Missy, let's get you up off the floor." he said, scooping her up.

Missy tried to curl up again, resulting in her burying her head into Roman's chest.

Patton smiled at him before looking at Logan and shaking his head.

Roman left the room with Missy.

"Lo, why would you ask her that?" Patton said, frowning.

"I was only looking for a logical answer as to why she was acting like this, the jumper may have at least given me something to work with. I am not good with all of these emotions and things, but what I am good at is finding answers. And I want answers as to why Missy is distraught and Roman looks effected by the whole situation as well. Pat, I think we did something wrong with Thomas." Logan said, looking at the ground.

Patton smiled sadly at the other trait, standing up and walking over to him, giving him a hug. "Things will work out Lo, I know it." he said.

~In the lounge room~

Roman's POV

I lay Missy down on the lounge and she crawls over to the corner where Anxiety used to used to sit.

I sat down and moved closer to her, "Missy, please. Just tell me what's wrong." I say, not that I cared about Anxiety, but I cared about Missy.

She turned to face me, "I was there. I didn't want to be. He wouldn't let me go. I wanted to get help. But he didn't want to be alone and and and." she burst into tears again.

I put a hand on her shoulder, I wasn't the most emotional one, but I knew just enough.

"What's wrong with Anxiety?" I asked, trying to look like I cared.

"He's Gone."