It Doesn't Even Matter

Needing Air

Grabbing my duffle bag, skateboard and backpack from the back I realize just how embarrassing it really is that all of our belongings fit in the back of mom's second hand Jeep. These kids probably have cars of their own, brand new, and have never had to ride the bus. Before I can linger on the thought too long the front door bursts open behind me and I turn around just in time to see mom running over to practically make out with the man in his doorway. Two kids around my age both look on just as uncomfortably as me. At least we agreed there. A sharp grimace takes over my face even more as I stare at them and I instantly regret telling mom I would try with any of this. "Oh, oh honey," my mom calls over to me waving her hand around and breaking away from the sloppy make out, "come meet Mark, Mark this is my baby Maxxie!" Gosh thanks for using my awful full name. Walking up the driveway I slowly feeling a wave of nausea and anxiety coming over me. Why should I care what these people think of me. Why do I?

"Maxxie my boy!" this guy, who I don't even know throws his arms around me in a suffocating hug pulling me to him. "Welcome home son!" Resisting the urge to gag from his I'm sure overpriced Cologne and him calling me son, I wait for the man to get the hint I'm not hugging back and pull away before speaking.

Trying, your trying Max. "Um thanks, I go by Max actually but thanks." Fuck that was weird, but what was I suppose to say, this whole thing is weird!

"These are my wonderful twins Sam and Drew," Mark gestures to the side where the pair now stand. The twins could have been identical with there perfect blond hair and blue eyes. The only big differences I can spot straight of the bat besides Sam being a girl is that the tips of her long blond hair have been dyed a bright pink and Drew has lots of freckles. None of us say anything for a long moment and the awkward silence feels heavy. What was I supposed to say? "Kids why don't you give Max a tour while me and mom catch up," Wow OK then, someone is pushing hard for this right out the gate.

Mom and Mark head back towards the car leaving me completely alone with the Grady twins. Give it a chance, you can do this just be polite, "hey, um so how old are you guys?" It wasn't great but it was something, a start?

"Come on," Drew rolls his eyes walking back inside without us.

"Don't mind him," Sam says while casually linking her arm through mine and pulling me along with her into the house, "he just hates your mom because she's a whore, but we know you didn't know what she was doing so he shouldn't be so rude to you," I yank my arm away from her as fast as I can nearly knocking her over from the force in the process. Did she seriously think I would just be OK with her calling my mom that! I open my mouth to tell her off but her squeaky voice cuts in again quick before I can. If she notices the look on my face she doesn't seem to care it's there and just keeps talking, "Drew and I are sixteen by the way, same age as you right? Where did you go to school before this?" Take a deep breath Max, do not lash out at her. You are giving this a chance for mom remember, you can't mess this up right away. Don't prove to them you are who they have in their head.

"Will you guys hurry up already, some of us have plans today and I don't need dad's new," he pauses briefly waving his hands in my direction and grimacing "him, to be wondering the property when my friends get here!" I'm grinding my teeth together so hard it feels like they might turn into chalk.

Forget trying, this was about all I could take! But then mom's happy expression when she hugged Mark pops into my mind. I couldn't be responsible for another bad thing in her life, not again. "Just show me were to put my stuff and I'll be out of your way," I grumble under my breath clenching my fists till there white and not looking up from the ground.

It turns out I have my own room, one with its own bathroom and walk in closet too. I don't know why I had expected differently looking at the outside of the house but I guess I hadn't really given any of this much thought. Lucas would probably be making some dumb joke here about how long we could go with him living in my new closet before we got caught. Don't, don't think. Don't think about it, about him. Not now.

Sam has my whole body on edge already as is and I can't lose it in front of these people. Sam has just asked me genuinely if the size of the room is OK for the third time and I think I could scream. Oh and she even added how they had three others we could look at if this one is too small or is "not giving off the right aura" whatever the hell that means. I didn't need this. Maybe she couldn't tell by the fact that all of my belongings fit in my hands but I was just excited to have a bed instead of a mattress on the floor or a couch and suddenly I didn't feel like screaming, I felt like crying. This was all just too much and she's still talking. Talking about us changing the wall color or ordering furniture I might like better. About new bedding to make it my own. I know she means well, at least I think she does but I just, I can't do this. I needed her gone. "Get out." My voice felt strong and I hope it was because I needed her to leave before I loss it and she catches me in a bad place. Sam takes the hint and leaves closing the door behind her in a hurry without anymore words.

I let my breath out all the way. I hadn't realized how much I had been holding it in. Closing my eyes I try to remember what I had learned on the library computer about how to meditate and how to avoid panic attacks. But that was so long ago and I had been too upset to go back when I realized what I read wasn't even working. It wasn't working now either. I couldn't do this, I couldn't be here. But where could I even go? Nowhere, I had nowhere left to go. My breath picks up in my throat even more and I can feel the hot tears run down my cheeks as I try to close my eyes even tighter, willing the darkness to take my feelings away as I try to stop this. I throw open my eyes again fast when that doesn't work and it starts to feel like I might pass out. Turning towards the rest of the room I see the lamp on my nightstand and grabbed it without another thought throwing it across the room. This isn't right. Watching as it hits the wall, the lightbulb and lamp shattering into a million pieces and falling limp, all I feel is a rush of shame uplifting my panic, propelling it forward. Faster and faster the air rushes in and out. What have I just done. I'm messing everything up already. Faster and faster. I'm proving to them they're right about the types of people we are. Faster and, NO! No, you are better than this, you have to be better than this. No more anger, no more fear, no, no, no more... I can't breath. I can't. The pressure on my chest is too much and I fall to my knees. Griping the end of the bed frame I pull open my backpack and look for my sketch book and a pencil. Maybe I can control this if I just focus on forgetting. Air. I needed air, if I can just breath again maybe I can steady my shaking hands enough to start drawing, to calm down. Looking around the space frantically I spot the balcony, of course it has a fucking balcony. OK no, stop that, you don't have time, the walls are closing in on me again and the lights are going out. I'm losing it. There trying to kill you!! This place is trying to.. stop breathe, think logically. Stop, breathe, air. Taking heavy steps on wobbly feet I make it to the door and pushed it open. I collapse onto the floor outside, gasping for breath but even with the air around me and the breeze I can hardly catch my breath and take it in. Closing my eyes again I try to focus on nothing. Your just here, your just floating, I take some more deep breaths. I just float. I take in more air. I feel like a fish out of water in every sense, gasping for air unable to breathe and completely displaced. I take another slow deep breath.

I hadn't, this hadn't happened since..., I was supposed to be better now. Things were supposed to be better now. I didn't need help! I was fine. But this time when it all stopped I didn't have a moment where I was scared from what just happened, worn out or relieved it was over. Instead the nothingness hit right way. So maybe I am getting better, or maybe this is bad. I forced it. I know I did. Me shoving myself into it before anything else could come out. I felt nothing, just numb. I feel nothing. Maybe I shouldn't be feeling this way and there should be something else here, but numb was ok with me. I could handle the nothingness, it was the everything else that was the problem. Opening my eyes again I reach for my book pulling it open to the page I had been working on before and start adding more cracks to the dirty pavement in the picture. I can feel it when my insides twitch and I force myself back to nothing again. I was cracking. I'd just had a panic attack and I hadn't had one in almost a month. I'd convinced myself they weren't coming back and that I'd get to feel empty forever. That was my safe place. The emptiness was safety, but now. I was cracking. Like pretty soon the numb won't come back at all and it will just be the feelings underneath. I can't be cracking. I can't.