The Deep Stuff - Markle - GMW Fanfic

Chapter 2

A/N: Disclaimer: I don’t personally have a panic disorder and I have no real experience of what a panic attack would feel like. I am trying to write about the minimal knowledge of panic attacks and I don’t want to offend anyone. I’m sorry if anyone takes offense.

 

Also, as I am now caught up on GMW, I know that Maya’s house is not as hellish as it is in my story and that Maya’s grandma lives there too. But the setting I have started fits my story much better and since I started this story before we had seen Maya’s house in the show, I feel like it’s ok.

 

Maya’s POV

 

When I got home that night, I saw no sign of my mother. Mike had apparently stayed in his intoxicated sleep all day, because when I got home he was just beginning to stir on the couch. I darted into my room and closed the door as quietly as I could so he wouldn’t know I was home. I set my bag down and sat on my bed. As I began to change out of my school clothes, I felt my chest seizing up and I couldn’t think straight. I pulled my knees up to my chest and held them there type. Thoughts rushed through my head and I was so panicked I wanted to scream, but the small voice of reason that was left behind reminded me that yelling and screaming would only worsen my pain by waking up Mike. I tried and tried to force down the rising panic but it wouldn’t go away. I raked my hands down my face and bit down on my lip so hard it began to bleed. This place was getting darker and darker every second as I jammed my eyes shut so hard I began to see spots. I began to breath deeply in and out, trying to even out the ragged breathing pattern. After a minute the tension began to slip away and my mind began to sink back down to reality. I stopped shaking, and my eyes slowly peeled open as I continued to breath deeply. Eventually I stood up and started pacing to take my mind of the thought of my panic attack. But pacing, as usual, led to thinking, and today I started thinking about how my mom hadn’t been there for a single one of my panic attacks. Ever. I don’t even know if she remembers I have a panic disorder. Why is she never there? Did I do something? Even now as a 15-year-old, I find myself asking what I did wrong to deserve the abuse and neglect that I receive. I must have done something. Why else would she ignore me and leave me at home with him, when she knows he beats me. What did I do? My mind starts to overflow and I walk slowly to my drawer. I pull out the old shard and walk into the bathroom. I make a few new marks, to punish myself for whatever I’d done to make my mother hate me. I make sure that I rinse them clean and dry them gently before heading back into my room. I go to my small closet and pull open the door. I pull off my shirt, and as I am reaching for my pajama top, I catch a glimpse of myself in the long mirror on the inside of the closet door. I look at my body, and find myself wondering, ‘Is it about my size?’ Is that what she doesn’t approve of? Further more, is that why no boy wants me? If I was skinnier and prettier, would she love me? Would she stand up to Mike and get him to stop hurting me? I vowed right then that I needed to be skinnier. If I could become perfect, then maybe my mother would love me and the pain could stop. I reach into the closet and pull out a tank top and some pajama bottoms to wear. I close the closet door and slip the pajamas on. I glance over to my backpack thinking about the homework that’s due tomorrow, but turn and get into bed instead of doing it. School isn’t important. Not when I have so much going on inside. As I drift off to sleep, I think about tomorrow. I just have to make it through, one day at a time.

 

(One week later, One week to the dance)

 

Maya’s POV

 

I woke up  and raised my arms above my head in a yawn. I sat there for a second before grabbing beaten up old phone Mr. Matthews had given me in 7th grade and checking the time. 7:15. Riley and I leave from her house for the subway at 7:30 every morning; after scarfing down whatever breakfast  Mrs. Matthews has prepared. However, this week I’ve been late every morning so I could avoid breakfast. I had eaten a granola bar every day, occasionally something else if I was feeling especially weak. I stood up and walked quietly to the closet. I picked out red high-waisted shorts, a long sleeved blue and white striped shirt, then pulled on my tattered, old, black combat boots and laced them up. I went to the bathroom and grabbed the makeup pouch. I pulled out my base and concealer and went to work fixing up the bruise on the bottom left side of my jaw. It had been been freshly inflicted last night when Mike had been mad about a football game he had recorded a few weeks ago. He had just watched it last night, while he was so drunk he didn’t realize how old it was or that the team had won all their games after this loss. I had walked out of my room at the wrong moment and his anger had been pushed at me with his fist. I cringed as my distraction caused me to press too hard with the makeup brush. When I finished covering it up, I moved on to my eyes. I put a light nude palette eyeshadow on, and topped it off with cat eye liner and mascara. I put a lip balm on and slipped back out into my room. I grabbed my backpack and slipped quietly out into the hall. I took a deep breath and walked out into the kitchen. Luckily for me, Mike was not in the tv room. He must of actually slept in a bed last night. I continue to walk quietly through the house and I’m grabbing a granola bar for lunch when I hear it. My mother screams and something glass shatters. I hear Mike MIke’s gruff voice next and I’m frozen where I stand. My mother shouts again and before I know it I’m out the front door running down the stairs, trying not to cry. I ran to Riley’s house and regained my composure before buzzing up to them. “Maya here.” I said into the speaker. About three seconds later, I heard the voice of Auggie saying, “Come up!!” I smiled and walked into the elevator. I pressed the button for Riley’s floor and stood in silence, the only sound being the same old boring music that was always playing in the elevator. When it stopped and the doors opened on the Matthew’s floor, I stepped out into the hall. I walked to Riley’s apartment and knocked on the door. It was immediately opened by Riley who rushed outside, grabbing my hand and pulling me back into the elevator. “Bye Mom!” she yelled over her shoulder as we left. When we got in the elevator she turned to me. “You’re late!” she said, exasperated. I sighed and shrugged. “I woke up late,” I lied. “Oh well. Sorry you didn’t have time for breakfast!” “That’s okay,” I said “I ate a big dinner last night.” Another lie. When the the elevator reached the lobby, we stepped out and raced to the subway. We flew through the turnstiles and made it onto our train just in time. When grabbed onto a pole and sighed in relief, smiling, as the train started moving. Someone came up behind and we turned to see Lucas and Farkle standing there. “Hey,” I said to Farkle, because Lucas and Riley were already greeting eachother in a very friendly manner. “Oh, hey Maya,” he said in reply, offering a small smile. We stood awkwardly while we waited for Lucas and Riley to stop making out, but it seemed as if it wasn’t going to end soon, so we turned back to eachother and attempted a conversation. “So… uh, how’s the dance planning going?” he asked. “Pretty well, actually. We are almost done with everything and we found all the volunteers to help us set up, so that’s good.” I replied. “We just have to finish up decorations for the entryway where the couples take pictures.” “Speaking of, uh, that, Maya w-” Farkle began but he was cut off by the subway speaker telling us that is was our station. Lucas and Riley, who had finally separated while Farkle and I were talking got off the train before us, walking hand in hand. I rolled my eyes and followed, with Farkle walking at a slow pace behind me. Both of his hands were clutching the strap of his leather messenger bag and he was looking down. I looked back at him and said, “Come on Farkle, we should catch up to Lucas and Riley.” He looked up and said, “Yeah,” quietly. I walked ahead with Farkle trailing a step behind me until we reached Lucas and Riley. By that time, we were just about to walk up the steps to school, and as we walked, the craziness of a high school began to ensue all around us. I narrowly missed a kid biking by me at extreme speeds with no helmet, but Farkle, had grabbed my sleeve and pulled me out of the way just in time. We walked in the front doors and looked to see how many freshmen were ogling Rucas today. I motioned to Farkle to count how many on the left side of the hallway, while I counted the right. He gave a lopsided smile and began his work. We made our way down the hallway until we were out of the freshman lockers. We looked at eachother and I let out an exaggerated sigh of relief while he laughed. “Well the right side of the hall had 23 oglers,” I said nonchalantly, “How ‘bout you?” This seemed to snap him out of some deep thought. “Huh? Oh, uh, I counted 17.” “Huh. Only 40 today? Usually there are more.” He chuckled and raised his gaze up from the floor to meet my eyes. “I gotta go to Chem. See ya’ at lunch?” he asked with a slight smile. “Sure,” I replied, returning the smile. He turned to walk away and I called after him, “Save me a seat!” He looked back over his shoulder giving me a thumbs up. I turned back to my locker, the one right next to Riley’s, and put in the combination. As I did, Riley finally turned back to her locker as Lucas walked further down the hallway to his first class. I smirked at her and she blushed, still not fully used to the attention she got for dating ‘Mr. Perfect.’ I grabbed my english textbook and my notebook and stuffed them into my unorganized backpack. She grabbed her things as well and then turned to me. We started talking about the finishing touches of the soiree as we began making our way down the hallway. She had to go to History, so she made a left turn a little ways down the hall. I kept walking on my own to my English class.