Train Wreck

six

Wish I had some narcotics..... Ohhh some weed... If only I had some weed...

I shut my eyes tightly, tears streaking down my face.  The pain was sharper than I had ever felt but I knew it would only get worse with time.  Nothing will stop this from slowing down, especially once the adrenaline wears off.  Right now we are coasting on nothing but the hope that we will soon be rescued.  If someone comes soon, there is a chance we can get help before our bodies shut down and more extensive problems occur.

Broken ribs...definitely... pulled muscles... maybe separated shoulder?  My hip is messed up somehow... I don't even know...

Every single time I tried to breathe, I felt a sharp pain through my core.

This is really bad.  I just want to get to Tulip Tree and order pizza at our new rental house...  I need us to get there safe and sound, not die in the forest from internal injuries...

My back was constantly an issue, to begin with, thanks in part to hours spent studying.  I was also hard on my body, waitressing as well as washing dishes at the coffee shop.  That plus bike riding to get groceries or travel anywhere in Atlanta meant we were extremely active, even when I was physically exhausted at eleven PM I would have to bike three miles to get home after one of my night classes.

Pain always kept me grounded but in this case, it was going to be my undoing.

Think, Lissy... think... arrival time was about an hour away so if he could hike or something... or maybe someone will come and rescue us ... there has to be tracking on the train with some kind of alarm or alert system.  The main station has to know where we are.

Every time I attempted to breathe was like trying to swim during a riptide.  I took my time and even started counting grains of soil with my fingertips as another way to channel my anxious energy.

Anything. 

Anything to relieve a little pressure.

Anything to feel ... less.

Overstimulation was a common issue when my mind was spinning out so I tried to focus on anything I could to ground myself.

The pain was an easy focus.

Benji and Remington were speaking softly and I couldn't help but watch them together. Benji is so used to being around adults.  He does an incredible job adapting to every social scenario, somehow using his sweet personality to disarm even some of my college professors. My brother is receptive and constantly pays attention to the needs of others.  I like to think he picked that up from me, but the truth is it's all Clara.

He gets his tender heart from his Mother.

That was evident when he curled up, head in my lap, after returning from the chat he had with Remington. I knew Benji would remember people on the train at some point. He needed to know he was safe, to know I would catch him when he fell. 

Triangle breathing is a technique I was taught by my school guidance counselor during a panic attack back when I was little.   The 4-7-8 method is just the first one I learned but it works well when you want someone to sleep so it's what I went for after our folks died.  I taught my brother another tool for his use, mostly to keep giving him more weapons against anxiety and grief. We needed as many resources as we could muster, especially now that we were uprooting our lives for the new frontier that was Tulip Tree, Georgia.

Remington returned from his exploration and I noticed his eyes linger on me longer than I expected.  Benji smirked at the silent interactions and held gazes which only made me paranoid.