Breathe

Chapter One

It's one of those days again. I slap my blaring alarm which yells at me to get my ass out of bed. Like every day, my eyes shift to the glowing numbers even though I know what time they will read. 7:01 am. As I get out of bed, my whole body is tense and my hands and feet tingle as though I have a case of pins and needles; I don't, but it's like this sometimes.

I already feel exhausted and I have only just woken up. This is another normal for me. On days like these, I usually struggle to do anything productive, which I suppose isn't the best thing when you have college orientation in under an hour. With the exhaustion comes irritation. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I feel as though there's something I'm forgetting and for the life of me I can't remember what it is.

I'm not normal. I suffer from anxiety through severe panic disorders. There isn't always a danger or a reason to panic, but my fucked-up mind hasn't quite gotten the memo. This year will be a big step for me. Ever since my parents passed away in a fire that destroyed my childhood home when I was twelve my mum's younger sister, Rosa and her husband Jason have taken care of me and Zeus. Up until last year, I was living in their home and being home-schooled by Jason who works part-time at the school I used to attend before shit hit the fan.

Since being home-schooled I have yet to step foot in a school let alone a classroom. Too many eyes, too many opportunities to make a fool of myself, but my therapist advised me that college was a chance to make a life for myself and overcome my mental battles, maybe find a friend.

As I walk towards my dresser, I glance towards my roommate whom, despite my alarm, is still fast asleep. I have only met her briefly in the two weeks we have shared a room, she's usually out with her own friends, or asleep. The most I know about her is the fact that her name is Lucinda—although she dared me to ever call her that—she goes by Luce, she has a tattoo of a Datura flower on her wrist, and she's an art major.

When I reach my dresser, I aim to find the bleakest outfit I own, but who am I kidding, the entirety of my clothes consists of oversized shirts, hoodies, jeans, and sweats. I have a wide colour scheme to choose from, blue, black and white, preferably black. The less attention I draw to myself the better, that's rule number one.

I settle for blue boyfriend jeans, a shirt, and a black hoodie and decide to pair it with my black high-top converse. Thankfully our room has a bathroom attached, otherwise its highly unlikely I'd ever shower. I leave my clothes sitting on the edge of my bed and after I close the bathroom door behind me I strip out of my plain oversized shirt I wore to bed.

I turn on the faucet and wait for the water to heat before I hop inside. Steam quickly fogs up the glass and it isn't long before the water somewhat relaxes my tense muscles. Outside the bathroom, I hear a thud and my heart quickens. I rush out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my body and hands clasped tightly against my chest. After I emerge I see Luce sprawled on the floor massaging her shoulder.

"Are-are you okay?" I manage to stutter out, even though I hardly hear the words come out of my mouth with how loud my heart sounds in my own ears.

She glances up at me from her position on the floor and nods slowly. Her muddy brown eyes reassure me that she's fine even before she confirms it. "Yeah, I'm good. Just my talented ass falling out of bed, sorry I scared you."

I extend a hand towards her, one hand still clutching my towel, and when she grasps it I pull her up off the floor and manage a laugh at how ridiculous her hair looks. She laughs herself when she catches her reflection in the mirror and reaches up a hand to brush the glossy black strands in an attempt to tame them.

"We have orientation in half an hour, I'm done in the shower so it's all yours," I tell her as I retreat to the side of my bed where I left my clothes. She thanks me before heading into the bathroom herself. By the time she emerges several minutes later, I'm dressed and am tying my hair into a messy bun.