I want to do my best for you 💜

UNDER THE SHEETS

UNDER THE SHEETS
Kate's point of view:
"It's a party girl have fun cute but slutty! Right I gotta go I'm really in the middle of something so sorry see you soon" and I hung up and placed my phone on the mattress next to me. I looked down at my hand it was violently shaking I quickly grabbed it with my other hand I squeezed it as tight as I could. Deep breaths in and out filled my lungs. My entire body felt cold and numb. My eyes frantically danced around the room trying to find something to settle on until they met the red clock that was hanging on the far wall of my room. I began to focus on the seconds hand "tick, tick, tick" the hand slowly moved around the face of the clock. "1..2..3..." I counted the ticks out loud this was an exercise that my councillor had suggested that I try when I have my panic attacks. "4..5..6" I struggled to regulate my quick intakes of air. I wiped the tears that were streaming down my face and continued "7..8..9" I slowly began to take back control of my breathing. "In 1..2..3 hold 1..2..3 out 1..2..3" I thought to myself. Finally after what had felt like forever I was breathing back to normal however my entire body was still violently shaking. I never had any control of this I just had to let my body sort it's self out some times this would take 5 minuets or 30 it depends how bad the anxiety attack was. I stumbled into my bathroom and filled the sink. I removed my black rimmed glasses and splashed my face with the cold water, wiping the mascara from under my eyes as I did.

5 minuets had past and I had wiped the remainder of the mascara off of my pale white cheeks. I placed my glasses back on my nose and took a minute to stare at myself in the mirror. I slowly stood the top of my left index finger on the bridge of my nose and began to trace the contours of my face trying to find a reason as to why I am like this "I don't understand why I feel like this. why can't I talk to people. why can't I look at myself in the mirror and feel like I deserve to belong here" my thoughts cried out. then it started, the feeling as if a black tar were dripping down and encasing my brain "you're ugly, you don't deserve anyone, you will never accomplish anything significant in your life !!" A voice in the back of my head started. It was like an itch I couldn't scratch and couldn't shake. I slumped back into my room    And began to fumbled around in my bedside table. I had so much crap in my draws but amongst all the tangled jewellery and chewing gum rappers were my earphones my most prized possessions, music was the only thing that kept me going they way I could just submerged myself in a song and almost completely understand what the musician was feeling when they wrote it, I think that's amazing. I clutched the small white plastic case which they were so delicately sat in and pulled it from the tangles that it was encasing it,slamming the draw as I did so.

My phone screen started to glow as I shuffled my music
*serendipity by BTS playing*
I pushed my earphones in and lay on my bed whilst my eyes glazed over and tears began to travel down my cheeks.