I love/kill you

5

One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three.

Too fast. I'm breathing too fast. Focus. Slow it down. You can control it.

One-two-three-four, one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four.

OK. It slows down a bit. Good job. Good job.

One-two-three-four-five, one-two-three-four-five, one-two-three-four-five.

Excellent. It's now back to normal.

Rivotril took effect and then took my consciousness away.

***

"Kritsana. Kritsana. Please, wake up. The school's dismissed."

Despite the drowsiness, I tried to open my eyes. At first, I wondered where I was, and it took me quite a bit to realize that I had been sleeping in the infirmary's bed. Right, I had a panic attack at eleven so I took medicine and rested in bed—I replayed my past actions in my head. The plan is to see Phu around noon. Around noon? Wait? What's the time now? Crap! It's already in the evening. I looked at my watch and realized that it was already 5 PM. Holy sh... I overslept and missed the date with Phu. I then bustled out, grabbing my bag, saying goodbye to the nurse, and rummaging for my phone. Four incoming calls at around two thirty. He might have called me from the McDonald's since I hadn't been there. Goddamnit! I shouldn't have taken the pill. I had never had a panic attack for so long that I forgot about its side effects. The longer I hadn't taken the pills, the stronger the drowsiness, and I missed out on Phu because of that.

So he had done it.

I tapped my Twitter's inbox to send him a message, but he already left one for me. I opened his message immediately 

/I bet you can't skip classes, and that's OK. You should focus on the lessons, anyway. The business I need to sort out... Well, I should start with an apology. I'm sorry I've never told you before. Please, don't be mad at me. I already had a boyfriend when I met you. Yes, I've never been single. But don't you worry. Don't panic. I asked him to meet to talk it out. I'm going to break up with him. I should have done this ages ago. He and I got off on the wrong foot. I've been aware that it wouldn't last from the start, and once met you, it was clear to me that I should put it to an end. Please, I beg you. Don't hate me. Don't leave me. You can be mad all you want. I'll do anything to make up for it. But please, don't leave me. Don't let go of my hand. I love you so so much. I'll call you soon./

Wait, he—had a boyfriend? When he was with me, he already had a boyfriend? He has two-timed me? Have I been his hidden lover all along? What the f...

Unbeknownst to me, my strides came to a halt. When I had started reading the message, I was running, but the pace later slowed down until it became walking, then plodding, and then a halt. It was not until I looked up from reading the last line that I found myself standing before the school's front gate. The sun set early since it was in the cooling season, which is never really that cool in temperature. The street light was flashing as usual. The campus clamor had ceased long ago, and only the bounces of the ball in a distant gym were audible. Although it was the same after-school atmosphere, it was just incongruous to me. I felt the nausea in the pit of my stomach, which then reached my throat, and caught me off guard. Dashing to the street side, I disgorged. All the symptoms—headache, dizziness, heart racing and gasping—came back. My hands shook. I sweated buckets. Lightheaded. I felt as though I would lose my consciousness at any second so I tried to regain my breathing rhythm. The panic attack had returned, this time even more severe than the one at eleven. Glancing left and right, I realized nobody was around to save me.

Bit by bit, I tried to concentrate and sensed my breathing. While staggering to the gate, I rummaged for Rivotril in my bag. Not giving a care about water, I popped one into my mouth and swallowed right away. I must take the pill before my symptoms get worse. The drowsiness would soon follow so I needed to hurry back home. I then tapped a taxi-hailing app and fortunately, there was one available nearby which would arrive in two minutes. I leaned against the post in front of the school and counted my breathing rhythm repeatedly until the taxi finally arrived.