Reaper's Lullaby

Nora: Panic

"It is very hard to explain to people who have never known serious depression or anxiety the sheer continuous intensity of it. There is no off switch."
-Matt Haig

Nora stood in front of the kitchen table, head down, counting the streaks in the tile that looked like faded scars. It wasn't an ideal distraction. She couldn't daydream her way out of this one.

"I can't believe this! A seventy-three? You know we expect more from you, Nora! This is unacceptable!" her father bellowed. The tile trembled beneath her feet.

"I'm sorry," Nora whispered, wiping the tears that had pooled beneath her closed eyelids.

She had been standing here for an entire half hour being berated by both of her parents, and she hated being yelled at. It always made her cry, which of course made everything humiliating on top of being awful. Now her chest was starting to ache, her heart was racing and her limbs felt detached and tingly. A panic attack was coming.

"Sorry doesn't cut it!" her mother snapped.

"I tried," Nora whispered.

"So you deserve an award for trying? Yeah, 'cause that's how it'll work when you go to college or get a job! You've got your head in the clouds!"

At that unlucky moment, Nora's phone buzzed with a text from Lucas. As soon as she read it, her blood ran cold.

"Wat do u mean??" she texted back with shaking fingers.

"Or maybe you're too distracted! Look at you playing with your phone while we're talking to you!"

Nora looked up, desperate to make them hear her. "But it's important. It's from Lucas. I have to-"

"For the next month, no phone and no friends! You need to get this grade up!" her father shouted.

"That's not fair! I need my phone. Lucas might be in trouble!"

"That boy is trouble!" her mother said coldly. "He's been a wreck since Eric died. Sarah doesn't even know what to do with him anymore! I feel sorry for him, but he's not the good influence he used to be."

"Please just let me keep it until he writes back!" Nora pleaded.

Her mother snatched the iPhone out of her hand. "No. You heard your father. Go to your room!"

Nora turned and ran up the staircase to her bedroom. She closed and locked the door, then sat down on her bed and sobbed helplessly into her hands.

Lucas was in horrible danger. She was sure of it. Now she was lightheaded and gasping for air, her fingers twisting around the sheets. The panic attack had hit like a tsunami, and she tried her hardest to do the things she'd read online; counting breaths, breathing deeply through her nose and then out of her mouth, trying to imagine being in a quiet, safe place. But nothing helped. All she could do was gasp for air as she cried hysterically, terror filling every ounce of her body until there was nothing else.

It always felt like dying. Nora was sure that one of these days she'd be unable to fight it off, and her body would simply crack in half from the sheer force of the fear.

If Lucas was here, he could talk her back from the edge. He always did. His very presence was gentle and comforting, and he'd sing one of his songs softly to her while he held her until it passed.

But Lucas was trapped in his own hell, miles away, and Nora could do nothing to help him or herself.