Care for me (L. S.)

10

I'm no doctor so don't come for me if this info is not correct :))

Friday the 18th of September | Liam

He felt his heartbeat rise in his chest as he saw the two boys beat each other up. There was blood dripping down from the boy's face–who was yelling insults at Louis–on the expensive carpet. Louis' face looked pretty beaten up as well: his eye was starting to swell and he had a cut in his eyebrow along with some other red bruises.

Liam felt his heartbeat pick up, run off and leave him far behind. He groaned.

Not again not again not again not again not again not again not again.

Maybe he could control it this time. Maybe.

But his head felt tired and he could tell he was still drunk as everything looked red and blurry. The pounding of the music, the pounding of the fight and the pounding of his heart were competing and he didn't know which one of them would win.

He felt his inhale stop halfway and he tried not to think about death as he forced more air into his mouth. He knew he should leave and try to calm down, but he couldn't move. The panic in his stomach overpowered everything and there was only one thing on his mind: I'm having a heart attack. I'm dying. I'm going to die.

~

"Liam?" His mum screamed his name. She sounded mad. He didn't know why though.

A spring breeze blew through his hair as he sat on the beams of the little cabin in the apple tree.

The treehouse in the garden was one of his favourite places in the world.

He looked proudly at the shredded piece of fabric in his hands. His mummy would be so happy to see he made her a scarf. It had taken him all day to find a nice dress to transform and cut into the right shape using his little yellow scissors.

"Liam James Payne! Where are you?"

Liam was excited to show his mummy the masterpiece he had created.

"Mummy! I'm in here!"

He giggled at the sight of his mother's angry head appearing through the hatch.

"Why are there shreds of clothes throughout my house," she hissed at this point. He couldn't stop laughing; his cheeks were burning and he was clapping his tiny hands together, still holding onto the 'scarf'.

"Look, look!" He managed to say, before breaking into laughter again.

His mother screeched seeing the cut up dress in her son's hands.

"Liam, what have you done?!"

She looked at the boy disdainfully.

He was laughing and crying at the same time: his mummy was screaming at him in anger, but looked so funny doing it.

The tears were streaming down his face, creating salty rivers on his chubby cheeks but he kept laughing, cackling.

Until he couldn't breathe.

He tried to inhale air and he just couldn't. His heart was pounding in a pace it shouldn't be capable of.

An extreme panic filled every vein of his body and he just sat there in his treehouse, unable to move, looking at his shouting mother.

He stopped crying, feeling dizzy from a lack of air. He felt his heart banging in his little chest and he couldn't breathe.

His mom stopped yelling as well.