A/N:
By the way, 'this' (italics with SINGLE quotation marks) means thoughts while "this" (italics with NORMAL/double quotation marks) is out loud.
Also, this chapter is... interesting. I have panic attacks but it is so hard to describe it for me.
Sorry for the late update, just need to fix some things.
TW: bullying, panic attack, s/lf-h/rm mention (c/tting), self-deprecating thoughts, implied s/lf-h/rm (c/tting)
🖤Chapter 6: Panic-
Anxiety feels a sudden burst of panic.
Virgil/Anxiety's POV:
Talking about Patton, I heard running water, indicating he was washing all the dishes. Meaning...
Roman walked into the room.
"What are you doing on the couch, Incredible Sulk?!" he practically spat.
I rolled my eyes, 'Can I not deal with this right now?!'
"Re-lax-ing, if you wanted to know so badly. Now, can you leave me alone?!" He showed a look of disgust at me, then turning around and most likely going to the control room to keep an eye on Thomas.
Yup, just like that; he comes in the room to insult me and then immediately leaves.
Logan hadn't seemed to be intrigued by Roman's interactions with me and kept his eyes on his laptop. I suddenly felt a surge of panic.
Wait, why was I panicking?
Thomas.
I took soft breaths. making sure Logan couldn't hear me. The breathing didn't help. My heart was practically pounding. I sank down, returning to my room.
B͆͒͒ͭ̏̀ͮ̇ͨͤͧ̑̕͞re̪̘̣̙͙̝̭͍̳̗ͩͥ̀̔ͯ̔ͦͨ̓̑a̴͜͜t̨̘͍̦͔̫́̅͋ͥ͛̕h̛ͯ͊̃̃̀҉̯͇̬̥ę̹̥̮̤̥͚̖̗̰̱͔̤̣̫. ̒ͫ͐ͧ͑ͯͫ̂̐ͪ͑̚I̧͕̪̖͉̲̣̫̼̘̰̬̫͈̲̓ͯ͐͂̈̽̓ͦͭ̅ͮ̃ͯ́̚͝ ̨͠ǹ͖̘̘̠͍̫̥͈̹̈́̀͂͋̓̅̃̀e̡̢͋ͤͪ̔̌ͭͪ̐̃͛͂̂̃̽҉̬̥̮̪̝̫͇͔̼̜̥͓͙ͅe̸̽̌͗̀ͬͨ̑ͥ͊ͦ̊ͯͪ͊dḛ̡̛̰̜̗̣͈̬̺̗̯͖̅̾ͬ͆ͧͫ̐ͧͪ̄̾͟d̷҉͏̤ ͬ͆̏͋͑̈́ͯ̇ͦ̓͆̄ͩ̌̑ṫ̉ͬ̇͆̿͞o҉̴̸͍̪̳͇̱̫̥̫ ͖̯̺̜̱͒ͧ͒͒̇ͯ͘ͅb̧̩̠͍͇̖͎̤͙̲̬ͪ̉̎͐̎ͪ̾́̅ͫrȩ̛a̵͕̪̤̦̯̭̼͎̻̻̩̘ͬ̐̈͊̓̓ͣ̀ͯͧ͒͐͢͢ť͑ͭ̾̆̋͑ͥ̅̑̚hͨͣ̾͂̃̽̇̈́̄͋̈͋̀̚̕ȇ̢̢̄̄̈̓͡.̸̢͏
You don't deserve to breathe.
...
Ș̲̻̠̦̟͊̓̎ͤ̾ͥt̿ͪ̍̄͝҉̭͍̰̣o̳̺͒͂̕p̮͚͊ͫ͠͠, ͑̆p̣̬̤̝̝͐͛ͤ̐ͬ́͜͢l̔̎ͪ̒̊͒e̷̛̦̠̜̰͚͞a̼̣̫̫ͧͫ̐̆̕͞s̳̱̮͙͖̩̰͔̣͕̺͂̏̾ͧ̓̏̅̅̃̃̒ͥͅe̵̸̛̐̓̊̐̅ͨ̄̈̓̉.̴̗̩͇̙̯̩͈̙̓ͤ̽ͬ̓̓ͦͣ.ͨ̐̉̔ͯ̓͋ͪ̓̓.̶̧̯̫̣̻͚̘̦͔̯̰͍̬̺̘͘ͅ
Cut, go cut like you always do.
You deserve the pain.
Give in.
Cut.
You're useless.
Worthless.
A burden.
'Stop, please, stop it,' words repeated in my head.
Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.
"Stop it, stop it, stop it, please-", I chocked out, tears started running down my cheek.
'Why? Why me?', my throat started closing up.
I clutched my head in my hands, shaking. Where did this panic come from?
Thomas.
I jumped, remembering Thomas. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing. I concentrated for about 5 seconds until a strike of pain in my head.
You deserve it.
The air felt stuffy and hot, the walls of my room closing in. I trembled.
I hated this, but it was to protect Thomas.
W̍̆ͨ̃̑ͯͯ̍͛҉̴̯͚͙̮̥͚̥̤͇h̶y͔͚̠̼̻͕͙͍͗̌̏̇ͣ̽ͩ͌͟?̡̭̮͉̑ͬ̀ ̙̩̮̙̤̲̯͇͍͓̪̟̱͓ͬ͐̿͂ͤ͛́͋ͣͯ̃ͦͣ̽͢͝W̸͡h̟̝̬͉y̴͇̫̼͂̔ͪ͘͡ ̚m̔̋̽́ͦ̈ͨ͂͌ḛͨ͜͢͡?̯̣̤̬͍̟̥̩̣̤̪!͇̩̗͉̯̱̙̼̗̟̲͖͚̩͗̆̽̽ͮ̍ͥͪ̿͐͐͐ͦ̽
Because everyone hates you.
I believed it. I believed the voice in my head. It was right, it was always right.
Everyone hated me.
I crouched down on the floor in a ball, rocking back and forth.
But this wasn't a major panic attack.
...
Not yet.
I kept breathing in deep breaths. Nothing worked.
Nothing you do will work.
No one will help you.
Cut.
Cut until you bleed.
Cut until you pass out.
Cut until you faint.
...
The voice was right. It always was.
I ran into the bathroom, throwing the door shut. I didn't care if they heard it, they wouldn't bother checking on me anyway.
I yanked the drawers open, hastily grabbing my razor. Flows of tears coming out of my eyes. My throat closed as if someone was choking me. My head was beating so loud as if it was my heart. Hands shaking. Vision blurry. Thoughts erupting.
...
The press of metal against my pale skin.
🖤
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