Spinning out

Ch.2 : Ahh... Of Heathers and Panic attacks

Shit!' I felt myself mentally scream. Of course this would happen to me. Was I really that unlucky. I thought as I found myself continuing to stare at those heels.
Call me crazy but the longer I stayed staring the more I hoped they would explode into flames.
Turns out those wishes don't come true. Just like the lack of courage I had to stand up to my sister. So, instead of getting up and facing her like a 'Chandler' would. I stupidly stayed collapsed on my knees and let my eyes travel up slowly. Up her red and black knee high stockings to her plaid skirt and past her glaringly red blazer to her face framed by her perfectly styled, curly, strawberry blonde hair.
As much as I tried to avoid this moment at all cost. I obviously didn't do it very well.
That much I knew as I stood face to face with my sister. Heather Chandler, the almighty.
To her right was Heather McNamara, head cheerleader. Who has known my sister Heather since six grade and labeled herself as best friend the moment she hugged my sister.
Ever since they were inseparable not to mention the total opposite of each other. Where I sister was compared the moon very important but cold shouldered. McNamara was the sun. Full of bright smiles and a personality that could attract anyone's attention just by being in the same room.
What set her apart from my sister in wealth was not only McNamara's higher status in Society because her Father sold engagement rings for a living but the fact she inherited her Father's highly charming persona, lacking any mean bone in her body. Making her nicest Heather out of entire group.
Unknown to the world though was her strange obsession with knifes, dark humor and everything that was symmetrical. My guess to that knowledge would mean a future plastic surgeon.
Unlike my sister, although she wore similar clothes, her color scheme was yellow. Also known as her favorite color, which consisted of bright glossy yellow heels, white stockings, a plaid skirt, and a yellow blazer with a nice belt accessory. The only difference between her and the other Heathers was the fact she also wore a yellow Louis Vuitton handbag that sat hanging from her right arm.
Her wavy blonde hair didn't frame her face though. Instead it was pulled back into a perfect high ponytail.
To the left of my sister was Heather Duke. A close friend but a rival non of the less and the typical second in command mean girl. Sometimes I wonder if my sister only continued being 'friends' with her was due to her status as Head of the yearbook committee.
Other then that the only unknown fact about her was the fact she wasn't special beyond that. She was however highly misunderstood but she hid it well behind her stupid, snobbish personality front and misguided body image thoughts. The only thing I couldn't believe but it held some truth was the fact that her mother actually paid for her to get rocks.

Anyways, much like the other Heathers she wore similar clothing but the color scheme on her end was green. Except in my opinion she wore the most ugliest heels imaginable. From the tips of her forest green heels to her espresso brown hair. Her door like figure frame stood out underneath her oversized blazer and skirt like a sore thumb.
Tearing my eyes from Duke, I looked back at my sister as her cold, grey eyes with an intense shade of sapphire pierced right through mine. If looks could kill I'd be dead by now. The awkward moment ended when Heather finally spoke, her hands resting upon her hips. "Get up, you're embarrassing yourself."
The words however didn't register as hers to my ears. Instead it registered as a gruff, rough voice belonging to the tall eyeless figure who now stood in front of me in its wake. Grinning a wolfish grin as he reach down to get me.
Frightened I jump up to my feet, forgetting all my books except my journal on the floor.
Upon squeezing pass my sister and Duke in a hase as I blindly moved forward. About the same time I started to feel my blood surging through me in quickening pace as I quickly stood up, narrowing the sound around me to the point I only heard heart pumping at a radical pace. Which linked itself to the overwhelming feeling of anxiety. The kind that would make anyone rush out of the room to puke. The only tell tell signs of a panic attack I had when it was starting.
Except it wasn't till I shoved pass, yanking my hands away in the process that I noticed the figure I had saw was all in my head like vivid dream.
Shakily bring my trembling hands I moved my palms up in front of my face feeling myself narrow my eyes to glare at them in attempt to will them to siste all movement. Even as my mind reeled out of control on its own accord. Causing me to finally start to notice the feeling of my breathing pick up. That in turn made breathing harder as my chest started to tighten in panic. Which in turn was followed by sweat running down my temples.
In the end, I didn't even notice in my state of panic I had even tripped over my own feet and started falling towards the ground.
Then everything went black.
...
I felt my fingers close around a cushion of some kind before my body came to an understanding of it even waking up. Followed by my eyes slowly opening to the blinding artificial lights hanging above me.
The moment this feeling of coming back to the present all crashed together caused a brutal and powerful wave of nausea to rip through me. Not at all giving me the second I needed to see exactly where I was. Before it Caused my head to jerk quickly to the side automatically, narrowly missing the edge of the bed I now knew I was laying in before I spewed all the contents remaining in my stomach since this morning's breakfast.
So this is where I happened to find myself again. Poorly trying to stay perfectly still with my neck arched in an awkward angle along the side of the bed. Until I finished dry heaving and my nausea faded away.
Upon attempting to calm my heavy breathing, taking slow and deep deliberate breaths. I instantly calmed when I felt a familiar touch brushing against my cheek softly. Though I knew rationally it couldn't have been possible I let myself believe it could just for a second.
"Esme..." I felt myself hoarsely whisper, peering up through a bit of my dull brown hair covering my face from my vomiting fit just moments before to watch her.
First finding her wild curly raven locks falling forward a bit, still framing her diamond shaped face. Her Emerald green eyes gazing upon me with a small layer of concern she only ever reserved for me in her emotionless features. Only to watch them darken when she caught me staring.
With a another brush against my cheek with finger tips. Esme let out a breathy chuckle before I watched her full lips coated in peach colored lipstick curl up in her devilish smirk she always wore right before she would call me by her pet name she gave me.
Content in starting into her beautiful eyes. I couldn't help but appreciate how the artificial lights danced across her perfect, flawless, golden skin.