Foster Kids

Chapter 17 : Panic attack

Chapter 17

Later...   

Riker POV

Mark made me order stuff at the diner we were at. I didn't really want anything. But I ended up getting a glass of lemonade and a plate of fries. I haven't touched either though.

"Riker."

I looked up at Mark.

"I want you to drink your whole lemonade and finish your fries before we leave, ok?"

I looked back down at my fries. There's so many. This was kind of bringing back the trauma of eating back at home. Dad wouldn't let me leave the table until I finished dinner. But I didn't want to finish dinner because half the time, he did something to my food to make me sick. I never wanted to eat. And after a while of not eating, he'd lose his patience with me and hit me, and I'd go to bed hungry.

"Riker. What's wrong?"

I looked up.

"You should be starving. Why don't you want to eat? You didn't want to eat the first night you came to my house either."

"I'm just not hungry."

"I understand that. But you need to eat anyway. Tell me what's wrong. I just want to help."

I sighed. I really don't want to talk about it.

"Riker, I have to make sure you eat. And drink. You threw up basically nothing earlier."

"My dad used to... put stuff in my food," I said, slowly, not meeting Mark's eyes.

"What kind of stuff?"

"Sometimes salt. Like a lot of salt. To make it gross. Another time he didn't cook our chicken enough and Ross and I both got really sick from it. And um... he has these friends... One of his friends put... I don't know. Drugs? In my dinner. And I started feeling really out of it. I blacked out and don't remember anything from that night."

"So what did you do? Did you just not eat dinner?"

"Sometimes I did. Sometimes I was too scared to. So I would just sit at the table for hours until my dad lost it with me and hit me."

"Did he put stuff in Ross's food?"

"Sometimes. He usually did it to me though. He always had something against me, and I never understood why. Maybe because I was always trying to protect Ross. So I was always getting hit more. And maybe he just hated me more because of that."

Mark and I sat there in silence for about a minute.

"You know nothing like that will ever happen while I'm your foster parent, right?"

"Yeah, I know. I trust you. It's just... hard to get over."

"I understand. But I do really need you to eat."

"I know... I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I know it's hard for you. All I want is for you to try and do your best, ok?"

I nodded.

"I just get so anxious sometimes that I feel sick to my stomach."

"I know. It's ok. I just want you to try."

I started eating, but very slowly. If I haven't eaten in a while and I eat a lot too quickly, I feel really sick. And I was trying to avoid feeling any worse than I already felt right now.

Mark started telling me about how we should make a list of foods that I like so when he makes dinner, he can make sure it's always something that I like so it's easier for me to eat. I really appreciated how much he was trying to make me feel better. He didn't make me feel guilty for not being able to eat easily. He just wanted me to eat so I wasn't starving myself. And he's also kind of required to because it's in my file from the foster center. But I think he's doing it more because he cares and less because the foster center told him to.

I'd finished most of my lemonade and about half of my fries when his phone rang.

"Hello? Yes, this is Mark."

I wonder who he's on the phone with. Was it about school for me? Was it for his job? Actually I don't know what he does for work. Or maybe it's one of his friends?

"Ok, I will be there as soon as I can. Bye."

He looked worried as he hung up, which just made me worried. Is it something that has to do with my parents?

"We need to go. Ross had a panic attack."

"What!?"

"I'm going to go get the check and get you a box for your fries. Finish your lemonade."

He got up and left. I drank the rest of my lemonade. When he got back, I dumped my fries in the takeout box while he was paying for dinner.

I need to go to the bathroom, but Mark seems like he's in a rush to get to Ross, so maybe now's not a good time... But I don't know how long it's going to be until we get back home.

"Ready to go?" Mark asked.

I bit my lip and stared at the floor.

"What? What's wrong?" Mark asked.

"Am I allowed to go to the bathroom first?"

"Yes. Go."

"Are you mad?"

"No, just hurry up. I don't want to keep Ross waiting."

I handed my takeout box to Mark to hold while I ran to the bathroom. I went as quick as I could and then ran back out to Mark. We got in his car and he started driving.

"Eat the rest of your fries."

"I'm allowed to eat in your car?"

"Yeah."

I opened the box and started eating again. I was actually feeling a lot better now. I was only a tiny bit dizzy and a tiny bit nauseous.

We finally got to Ross's friend's house. Mark told me to wait in the car and keep eating. He went inside to go get Ross.

I wonder what's going on. What happened to Ross being able to forget about this side of his life while at his friend's?

Mark came out a few minutes later with Ross. He wasn't crying, but he looked really upset and tired.

Mark opened the door for Ross and he got in the backseat. I didn't want to say anything to him because I knew when I get panic attacks, I don't want to talk about it.

Mark got in and started driving us home. I finished my fries by the time we got there.

Mark went upstairs with Ross. I stayed downstairs to give them some time. Normally, I would probably go check on him and make sure he's ok. But I trusted Mark to do that. He's surprisingly good at calming me down and letting me take all the time I needed to regain control of myself. I've never experienced someone like Mark before. When I had panic attacks and Ross came to comfort me, he always tried to make me talk or ask me questions, or even just repeat over and over again that I needed to breathe. And sometimes that just made things worse. Mark will literally just sit with me without talking or trying to make me talk, and wait for me to calm down. And I really liked that.

I sat down on the couch and decided to just wait for Mark to come back down. I got another ice pack for my head and turned the tv on to distract myself.