BloodLust. Ticci Toby x Fem Reader.

Fight or Flight.

You glanced at the date. Monday the 28th. How were you not dead? You hadn't eaten, you hadn't drank anything? Your mom must've thought you were dead, Lisa, your therapist, was trying to get back in contact.

Your legs gave way and you collapsed on the bed, phone in hand as you trembled. What happened? There was more knocking until it seemed Bella gave up. It didn't make sense, nothing made sense. Anne died and now whatever was haunting her, was beginning to torment you too. Pursing your lips, you pulled your knees up close to your chest as your body slowly began to rock back and forth. Were you going crazy? Maybe everything that Bella had said was nothing but a prank, something that now she was laughing to herself about as she walked out the apartment complex. You wanted to call mom back but the very thought made you dread the idea of talking to her, especially knowing that now your therapist, Lisa was involved and trying to get back into your life.

No, you didn't need a therapist. You were okay. Your last breakdown was almost a year ago, right? You were okay. You were okay. The phone started to ring which caused you to jump, snapping you out of your thoughts and suddenly, you reached for the phone. MOM. With a slight tremble, you cleared your throat and answered the phone.

"Oh my god, oh my god, you answered. YOU'RE ALIVE!" Mom was sputtering, it sounded like she was crying and then it hit you. You are alive but how? Nobody had access to your apartment, especially if you were asleep for two weeks.
"Yeah.." you spoke, barely able to even understand your mom anymore. Her voice felt as if it was fading away, like you were beginning to fall into a daydream and slip away, lost in never ending thoughts. "Mom, I have to go."
"What? No, no you don't! You owe me an explanation! Lisa is trying to get back in contact to you!" You pulled your phone away momentarily and began to cough. It started with a tickle in your throat, hoping that a simple little cough to help clear it would make the tickle subside but it didn't. Now you were doubling over, hand clasped over your mouth as you tried to catch your breath in between each cough. You could hear your mom frantically calling your name and without even thinking, you just hung up on her. Then you collapsed onto your knees, trying to gasp for breath. It felt like your throat itself was closing up, like you were desperately searching for any oxygen to fill your lungs.

Then it stopped. You were on your hands and knees, a hand on your chest as you heaved thick and heavy breaths of air. Sweet air, letting your red cheeks calm and the tears in your eyes trickle down your cheeks. This wasn't right, you were not right. Maybe you were just sick, not 'I need a therapist' sick, like you were coming down with some kind of illness that made you pass out, bleed from the nose and forget simple things like how the hell you got home.

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The past couple of weeks had been rough. You finally managed to get a doctors appointment, discreetly of course and you hadn't been turning up for your shifts. Simply put, you were starting to not trust anyone and the comfort of the four walls within your apartment were making you stay in more than you anticipated. You spent days convincing yourself that you were okay, that you were safe, that going outside just wasn't an option right now and if that meant you got fired, you got fired. Shit happens and you were simply just going to accept it. Ever since you took in the comfort of your home and kept the door locked at all times, you hadn't received a brown envelope in almost a month and you had begun to convince yourself that this plan of yours was working. What was the point in leaving? You had a bed, a shower, you could get food delivered right outside your door!
Of course, this didn't settle well with mom and now Lisa was desperately trying to get more and more in contact with you with each passing day.

2 PM. Your appointment was soon with the doctor and that anxiety within you began to brew inside the pit of your stomach. You hadn't been keeping track on how long you had been inside your home but there was one thing you knew, you didn't want to leave. You'd just finished the first Lord of the Rings movie from the trilogy and now you were sat on the edge of your couch in hysterics, trying to calm your never ending panic attack that was growing more and more on you with each thought, the idea of even unlocking your door and letting a foot step out had made you thrown up more times this morning than you could've counted. Your hands trembled, your stomach growled as you ran a hand through your hair and let your thoughts gather. You couldn't cancel this appointment, this was the only one they had and taking it over the phone was too late to change.
With a shaky breath you stood to shower yourself off, maybe that would make you feel better and give you an ounce of courage. But it felt as if it had done the opposite, that you lingered under the warmth of the water for too long towards the point that you were about to be late for this appointment. After you hurriedly dressed and slipped on your shoes, with your keys confidently in hand, you remained stood still at the foot of your door.