I Promise

Chapter 6

Elizabeth’s P.O.V.

    Today is my 497th time going to a support group. Yes, I counted. It has been 57 days since my last panic attack. I got in Bo’s little blue car, phone in hand, preparing for the half hour drive. I smiled as I watched Bo gracefully slide into the car. On the way there, Bo and I joked and talked about our day as always.

   When we arrived, I kissed Bo on the cheek and said goodbye. I skipped up to the front door, actually excited for the meeting today. When I entered the building, I was greeted by the friends I had made this year. After exchanging hugs with everyone, we jogged up the many stairs to get to our meeting room. Stepping inside room 4B, I run over to Tom and give him a big hug. Tom has been like a father figure for me, which is something I have never had.

As I settle into my chair next to my best friend, Julie, I instantly feel comfortable. This place is like a second home to me. I look around the room, only to see Bobby looking at me. We made eye contact for only a moment, but it sent shocks through my body. I flashed him a smile.

Just then, the door swung open, only to reveal a young woman. She was tall and incredibly thin. Her short black hair was choppy and out of control. She had make-up smudged all over her eyes as if she had forgotten it from the day before. She wore baggy black sweatpants and a deep purple tanktop. Her foggy, but beautiful green eyes scanned the room with fear. She scared me, but there was something about her that I just couldn’t shake the feeling of. She was incredibly familiar looking.

Melissa’s P.O.V.

    Today is my first time going to a support group since I was 16. My last panic attack was yesterday. I slumped into the ugly red vehicle, dreading the 2 hour drive that I will have to live through. I scowled as I watched Rebecca stumble into the car. The car ride there was dead silent.

   

When I arrived, I got out of the car without a word. I shuffled up to the front door and reached for the handle, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath. I was dreading going inside. When I finally scooped up enough courage to take my first step inside the building, I opened the door and slid into the large empty room. Looking around, I notice a short blonde woman sitting behind a fairly large desk.   

"Can I help you with anything, dear?” The high pitched woman asked, instantly reminding me of Mrs. Karen. “Ah, yes. I’m looking for the support group that Tom Hopkins runs?” I ask, unsure if I got his name correct. “Oh, yes! That’s room 4B. It’s right upstairs, dear.”

   

“Here I am.” I thought to myself as I stood outside room 4B. “I’m here once again. But there is absolutely no going back now.” I slowly began to reach my hand out to the doorknob, but stopped. “I probably look terrible.” I continued thinking. I pulled my small purple mirror out of my purse. As I looked into it, I was shocked. My hair, no longer the long flowing brunette that it once was, is now short and black, spikes sticking all over the place from sleep. My make-up is still on, but smudged, from the day before. I have major bags under my glassy green eyes.

“No one will care.” I think to myself, finally finding the confidence to push open the big wooden door. As I open the door, I find myself standing in a room full of kids my age, with their eyes fixated on me.