Various Drabbles (Slash/Femslash/Het/Gen) [Ranging from PG to R]

Agoraphobia [Slash]

A/N

SLASH. Rated...hm, PG-13 for drug use and cursing.

Words can't even express how disapointed in the ending to Sakamichi no Apollon I am. I took a chance on a girly anime because I reminded myself it was Shinichiro and Yoko and they could do no wrong in my book. I really liked a lot of the episodes and the music was AMAZING but holy crap that ending killed the whole series. /sadface/

Anyways, I'M BACK. I will be posting new things + finishing old requests + reediting and posting old things from other websites that I had written, such as this. So...look forward to it!

Agoraphobia – the fear of being trapped or being in a situation that you can’t easily get out of. IE: concerts, crowded trains, large buildings like malls that have few exits, ect. The more you let this fear control you, the fewer places you feel comfortable in, the more panic attacks you have and the more afraid you become. Eventually you just stop leaving your house altogether, hence the main character’s problem in this oneshot.

"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." - Mother Teresa.

P.S. READ: I apologize in advance for the random words in bold, my comp kept doing it and I can't seem to change it.

Agoraphobia

It reached exactly five months since I left my apartment in the middle of November—that realization hit as I looked up at my depressingly plain calendar, hanging slightly crooked, never willing to stay up straight.

The sad part is: it didn’t feel longer than five days. Hours morphed together, time lost a lot of meaning when you didn’t really know how to fill it. I spent most of my time sitting in my room, thinking of conversations I could be having, places I could be going to. I thought about what other people were doing, living their days normally. I wondered what it’d feel like to be that oblivious again, what it’d be like if somebody were to take a hold of me like a music box and wind me back up again.

It stings to realize I couldn’t even imagine it anymore.

Losing your total sense of control was like losing your eye sight, or your hearing, it feels like you’ve become so in tune with yourself, that you’re in tune with everything else as well. You notice things that you never did before, like the way the faucet drips in the middle of the night, or how fresh the air smells in the morning.

I wondered if it was different for everybody who suffered from panic attacks, but, for me at least, I caught onto conversations.

I could hear the kids downstairs plotting to run away from this shitty apartment complex that held appliances that never seemed to work right. I heard arguing most of the time, different bits and pieces from neighbors that probably had more problems than I did. I could always hear Mr. and Mrs. Samson in 3b yelling about how they never had sex anymore and how their lives have become so entirely dull and unexciting it was almost unbearable. I could hear Mrs. Peterson in 4b screaming at her sons to stop getting in trouble at school.

And most of all, I could every little thing that went on in 2b, my direct neighbors.

There was always screaming, always yelling and sometimes crying. The arguments were one-sided; I could hear a man yelling incoherent things in a slurred voice, barking out orders and insults. I could hear a boy, a teenager, quietly murmuring apologies for things he hasn’t done—probably wasn’t going to. There were objects thrown around, glass shattering, the sounds of a belt cracking. Then the front door would bang shut, practically causing the whole floor to shake. Silence always followed.