The story of Serena and her 4 older brothers. Serena has not had her first kiss and she is determined to live a little. Her brothers don't want her to get hurt and so they are determined to protect her at all costs.
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The Monday after the twins party from hell, was the first day of the spring semester. It sucked to say the least. The whole day sucked from beginning to end.
I woke up having a panic attack. The air in my lungs stopped flowing through my body, so the rest of my body felt like it was on fire. I popped up, gasping for air. I hopped out of bed and hit the floor almost immediately. It made a loud thud.
I wasn't trying to wake anyone up, but after that noise, I'm sure the whole neighborhood is up. I tried to prop myself on my dresser, trying desperately to stand. But my whole body was shaking with anxious tensions.
It was still dark outside so I'm assuming it's like 4 ish in the morning.
Literally 2 minutes later, Quincy comes into my room half asleep. "What's wrong?" he mutters before really seeing what was going on. Once he realized what was happening, he swooped me into his arms with little to no effort.
Can you do anything by yourself?
He rocked me back and forth, trying to get me to calm down. It didn't work at all. I needed PJ. PJ is the only person who helps me with my panic attacks. I think it's because he used to have them.
When Quincy noticed I wasn't calming down, he cursed under his breath. "I'm going to be right back, okay?" he asked me, looking me dead into my tear-filled eyes.
I couldn't reply so I just nodded my head, trying to contain any kind of oxygen. After 30 is seconds, PJ came into my room. He was half asleep, but he didn't even seem tired. His slight smirk he usually has on his face was gone. He had a serious expression instead of his light smile.
He came over to me and kneeled down so he could see my face that was down, concentrating on getting air. "Serena." he gently called out, placing his hand on my knee. When he touched my knee, it was like I wasn't focused on my panic attack anymore. "What was the move called. The only were spin a lot of times with you leg kicked out."
I giggle through my tears. "A foute turn?" I asked him.
Then, PJ's light demeanor came back. He smiled at me and said, "Right."
PJ kept asking me about dance, which seemed to switch my focus. I wasn't focused on my panic attack anymore or my breathing. The oxygen was flowing through my body properly again. He took the pad of his thumb and wiped away the tears that slowly fell from my eyes. We sat there for 5 minutes in silence. "Wanna talk about it?" he asked, sitting down beside me.
Wanna tell them? Do you really wanna?
I rubbed my eyes, trying to get a clearer view. "What time is it?" I asked, looking at the window.
"Don't worry about that. Do you wanna talk?" he asked again.
"I had a nightmare, I think." I started. I didn't really want to talk about it, but I didn't want to be alone.
