DreamNotFound Oneshots

Never Enough (Part 2/3)

Angst
TW: Anxiety, Panic Attack

George stormed off in tears and rage. And now is struggling to cope with his thoughts.

No One's POV:

George was angry; so very angry at Clay. His best friend since they were kids had unknowingly belittled him. He made him feel utterly pathetic for crying. He was hurt. Fuck emotions.

George's POV:

I hadn't run for too long before my legs had started to ache and my chest tightened up. I stopped to catch my breath; mini clouds clustered in front of me as i puffed out into the cool evening air. My fitness wasn't the best. Unlike Clay, the best player of our school rugby team. Well, i think he's the best anyway.

I sighed at the thought of him.

I'd ran to our local skate park, knowing Clay would never look for me here - he may be decent at skateboarding, but I am definitely not.

"Ughhh!" I groaned out loud. What is wrong with me? I literally just screamed at him, why would he even bother coming to look for me? I guess i just want him to. But even if he did, I wouldn't know what to say.

I slid to the ground, my back pressed up against one of the railings they'd use to glide along or do tricks across. I huffed a little, feeling the cool metal bar press against the exposed skin at the nape of my neck.

I heard a few murmurs and someone kiss their teeth; a few younger teenagers were about to use the railing by the looks of their aggravated expressions. Completely ignoring the group i clenched my eyes together, going into deep thought about the amount of skill it would take to actually do a trick off of this. Gosh I couldn't even stand on a skateboard!

Clay had tried to teach me once, well on multiple occasions actually; each time i had ended up with some type of bruise or graze. I know that's to be expected and "every skater falls at first, even i still fall sometimes!" Clay had said, but i just didn't like it. I complained about falling and refused each time to try again. He'd gotten so fed up with me and so we just ended up playing tag like a couple of 10 year olds.

To be completely honest, I didn't mind the minor injuries I'd gotten. I had whined to him that "i don't want to die!", completely over-reacting. Honestly, i just didn't want him to see me hurt. It was so embarrassing each time i fell; he'd snicker at my wobbles and chuckle at my stumbles. He didn't mean it in a harsh way, just some friendly banter, but it irked me that he mocked me for something I wasn't good at.

I always want to be the best at everything. Yes, some people at school may call me a "Nerd" and "Teacher's pet" for always getting top marks, but i work hard. Most of my classmates continuously ask me, "How are you so smart?" or say "It's not fair, i study so much and you still get higher than me". Now that just pisses me off.

They don't see how much stress i put on myself. The countless amount of sleepless nights i've had and meals i've skipped, just so i can go through my revision guides a third time. I'm not purposely trying to harm my mental health, but the thought of failure cause me so much anxiety.

My parents are constantly berating me for every mistake. The disappointment and displeasure they express when my grades slip even in the slightest basically tortures me. They go on about "The amount of stuff we've done for you?! Fed you, clothed you! And you think that it is acceptable to behave like this. You're slipping again! You're grounded until your grades improve. You've upset us George."

"Arghhh!" I scream, frustrated with everything. Even Clay, my best friend, thinks I'm fucking pathetic. He know about my anxiety. He knows how utterly distressed i get.

Though I suppose I can't blame him for thinking i was crying at some stupid game. He's not particularly good at reading people or handling people's emotions. Gaming and rugby. That's all he has to worry about. He doesn't fucking get it! No one does!

"Ughhhh!! Fuck sake!" I yell, entirely oblivious to the former group of teens that had began to leave, undoubtedly disturbed by my outbursts.

"Fuck everything!" I shout again, rage bubbling inside me.

All of a sudden, my breaths start to come out as short rapid gasps. Here we fucking go again.

I can feel my heart palpitating, the uneasy rhythm drumming in my head. A familiar burning sensation tickling at my lungs.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." i mutter to myself, aware that i'm becoming increasingly panicked.

I took deep intakes of air through my nose and exhaled through my mouth in an attempt to calm myself.

One. Breathe in. Breathe out. Two. Breath in. Breath out. Three...

I usually count to around 30 before the overwhelming panic starts to ease. But my breathing was still very unstable, and heartbeat erratic.

I let out a broken sob, tears now streaming from my eyes, as my hands began to shake uncontrollably.
"I'm gonna die, oh my god..." I murmured, panic completely taking over.

Why do i have to be like this?

WC: 904