A fear of thunder (Thor x reader)

A dead woman walking

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SUICIDE THOUGHTS AND SOME DETAILS. IF YOU CAN'T STAND THINGS LIKE THIS: DO NOT READ THIS.

You hated when people told you to relax or to smile or to forget about your fears.

They did never feel this aggressive panic. They never felt the grip of fear, squeezing your lungs, taking your breath away and making your heart race.

If you have never felt this fear you are not allowed to talk about it because you don't know how badly you suffer from it. It's the worst thing when your psyche takes over, rips the control out of your hands.

Especially when you have a low self esteem. When you fear every step you take to be somehow wrong and then the fears shows up and makes you disgrace yourself in front of your friends, your crush or total strangers.

You can't just forget about a fear.

It's always there, lurking behind the next corner.

It's always ready to attack you and every attack feels like an attempt to kill you.

It's not to be controlled.

They didn't understand though. They were sure that you only made your fear up and laughed at you when you ended up on the ground, gasping for air as your lungs refused to do their work.

That was why you barely ever left your house. You wanted to prevent this situations from happening because it wasn't only the fear that made you shiver but the knowledge that people were watching. People were not only watching but judging. They though you to be a weirdo, a psycho. A lot of them were sure that you just wanted to raise attention.

This wasn't in the least what you wanted. When the panic occurred you wanted to find a dark den to hide and never come out again.

The phobia controlled your life. It had taken over years ago. You hadn't interfered though. You had just let it happen as the effort to stop the process seemed far too big and you hadn't been aware of the influence the result would have on your life.

If you had know you would have at least tried to prevent the fear from growing. Now was too late to blame yourself for you lazy accepting. Now you had to live with the consequences and therefore stay in your flat and live your boring life that could always turn into hell.

Sighing you looked out of the window and felt presage of the panic that would grab you soon. The sky was clouded and pitch black. There was this special tense in the air that warned everyone to stay inside if you preferred to stay dry and warm. Even the wind whispered of the things to come.

This would be a strong thunderstorm. There would be exploding thunder and flashing lightning and you would sit in a corner of your flat and fear for your life. You would cry and sob and shiver and gasp for air and still have the feeling to suffocate.

Somehow you did always suffocate but in a way that gave you the possibility to survive. Not that you had the urge to survive when the panic tightened its cruel grip around you. You wanted to die and to get away from the fear.

Death did indeed seem to be a good solution. When you are dead you are moveless and cold and deaf and blind. You couldn't see the lightning or hear the roaring thunder. There were no nerves to transport the information through your body. You were numb and your brain was out of order.

The only thing that kept you from killing yourself was ... well ... you didn't really know why you hadn't killed yourself. Now that you thought about it you weren't sure why you hadn't just taken a knife and cut your throat open.

You slowly strolled towards the kitchen. The kitchen with the sharp bladed knives.

With a gentle move you opened the drawer holding the knives and brushed over the cold metal of multiple blades, searching for the right one.