Phone. I need my phone. Where did I put it? Did I leave it downstairs? My eyes rapidly searched the room, my feet stumbling and making me fall into my wall. I fall to my knees, continuing to crawl and search.
My hands grasped an item, and I immediately unlocked it while my hands shook profusely. Chan. I needed Chan. He knew how to deal with these things.
"Hello?" A raspy, tired voice answered.
I would've felt immense guilt if I was in my right mind.
"Ch-Chris, I can-n't breath!" I tried to yell, stammering and stuttering my words.
"Oh Jesus," he seemed to wake right up but I continued to cry, "hey, hey. Listen to me. Focus on my voice. Breathe out. You're forgetting to breathe out. Inhale and exhale."
I tried listening, my breaths stuttering a few times before I could feel that the burning had gone down. As soon as I gained control of my own breathing, I started sobbing.
"What happened, Sung? Do you need me to come over?" He questions, his voice full of concern and tenderness.
"P-please, I need s-someone. Please c-come. Please please please," I whisper into the device, my head hurting from the previous attack and the continuous tears.
"I'll be there soon, kid. Hold tight. Don't forget to breathe," he says before I hang up the phone.
I curl into a ball, my body wracking with sobs. The fear running through my bones was unbearable. I felt so ashamed for almost having a panic attack for this. It's so dumb. Why am I bothering Chris? I should just deal with this on my own. So fucking stupid, Jisung. So fucking weak. Why do you have to be so dependent on people? They don't care about you. You need to fucking get yourself together. Man the hell up.
"Jisung, hey listen to me," Chris' voice sliced through my nasty thoughts and his fingers touched my head, brushing my hair back. "Breathe. Focus on me. Not your thoughts."
"I-I can't. They just keep h-hitting me. I don't want to b-be alone anymore, Ch-Chris. My p-parents aren't coming home for a f-few months. They must fucking hate me. I'm so much of a bother to them-"
"Jisung, stop," he says softly, "they love you. They have to work and you know that. They love you, Sung."
"They never say it. They never do. I've heard it a total of five fucking times! I'm 19. 19. My mother never hugs me or kisses me. My father barely glances at me. They wouldn't fucking care if I died," I sob, sitting up but not embracing the older. I deserved to be alone.
"They care about you, Jisung. Even if they don't show it. And if you don't think so, then think of the people who do care about you. All eight of us. Minho, Felix, Jeongin, Seungmin, Changbin, Hyunjin, and me. We care about you. And there's so many more people that care about you too."
"I'm sorry for being such a bother," I whisper, wrapping my arms around my knees.
"You're not. Everyone has hard times. You know how I used to be, but you were still there for me. I'm here for you now," he scoots over and hugs me, making me feel like I had a real big brother. It felt nice.
"I'm still sorry. I know how tired you are. I know how stressed you are. I-I should've-"
"Jisung, stop. Just shut up. I love you. You are my family. You are my little brother. I don't care if I was dying, I will always protect you. I'll always be here for you."
I didn't respond, instead, I just hugged him tighter while tears slipped down my face. I was so grateful for his presence. I was so grateful for him being alive.
•How was this?•
