SEVEN MINUTES || L. NORRIS

FOURTEEN

I forgot to love you, love you, love you

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LANDO

I shot up from my restless sleep. My breathing was heavy, my forehead dripping with sweat as I clutched tightly onto the white bedsheet beneath me. Tears began to roll down my face, my lip trembling as I wiped my eyes.

I couldn't bear to have the same nightmare one more time. The one where I saw Isabelle crouched on her knees in a dark alley, her hands on the wet pavement before her as she cried out my name. "Lando," I could hear the fear in her voice so easily. "Lando!"; she repeated it over and over, with helpless cries and mutters as she begged me to help her. Her lip was cut and bleeding, her wrists and elbows grazed as she lazily lay on the floor, collapsed in a bundle on the concrete. I was right beside her, but I couldn't move. I was completely frozen, none of my muscles would work to help her. I just needed to take a few steps closer and I would be able to take her into my arms and carry her to safety, but my brain wasn't cooperating with my body. My limbs stayed still, I could only blink as I watched her crying out for me, with nothing I could do to make anything better.

The time flashed up on the screen of my phone and it read 3:57am. I'd fallen asleep rather early, dragging myself to bed at around eight in the evening, but I didn't necessarily feel awake just yet. All I knew was that I could not face another dream like that one; I'd experienced it too many times, with nothing changing as they became more common. Right now, I wanted Isabelle. I wanted her to crawl closer to my side of the bed and wrap her arm around me tiredly, like she always used to in the middle of the night. I was in dire need of her comfort.

I dragged myself from my bed and padded across the cold floor to my wardrobe. I fumbled about in the darkness to find a pair of joggers and a t-shirt to change into. I didn't want to go back to sleep, so I knew taking myself to the front room would be a better idea than lazing about in bed. I reached for my phone, shoving it in the pocket of my pants and headed to the front room, flicking the light on so I could see where I was going. I went to the kitchen before I took a seat on the sofa, filling a glass full of cold water, switching on the television and taking the remote to my seat with me. I turned the volume down, so that the television provided the smallest amount of background noise. I buried my face into the palms of my hands, groaning as the all too familiar stabbing sensation began again in my chest. Each time, it felt like I was dying. It felt like my heart was preparing to stop due to the strain which I was placing on it.

I'd just arrived back at my hotel after day four of my week long training camp in Bahrain. I was missing Isabelle terribly and I finally had some time to spend alone in my room, where I could relax and recharge before we headed downstairs for dinner. It was six in the evening, meaning it would be late afternoon back home for Issy. I decided to shower and change out of my sweaty clothes before calling her. I was meeting the guys downstairs at seven thirty, so I had plenty of time to sort myself out, to make myself feel a little fresher before I headed for food.

I was stood under the boiling water of the shower, allowing it to hit every inch of my body, when I heard my phone ringing in the other room. I assumed it would just be a member of the team, so I shrugged it off and continued to wash my hair. However, after the ringing stopped, it began again immediately and a bad feeling grew in my stomach. Isabelle.

I switched the shower off quickly and reached for the towel, wrapping it around my waist, before rushing through to the bedside cabinet where I was charging my phone. I saw Issy's caller ID flashing on the screen, so I reached for the phone and answered the call, to be greeted by my girlfriend's heavy breathing on the other end of the line. She soon started to cry out heavily, sounding as if she was in extreme discomfort. I felt sick. She didn't have to say anything, because already, I knew that she was having a panic attack.