‡† The Unseen †‡

07 † More shadows †

The pain was unbearable, but at least here he didn't have to suck it all in. His chest constricted even more, and his mind continued to blank out.

With more panic, came more pain.

And soon the back of his head crashed against the wall, joining the rhythm of his feet.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Groans and hisses escaped his lips.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He started rocking, back and forth, his head knocking harder, then harder, against the bricks behind him.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The pain didn’t stop it—but at least it gave the panic somewhere to go.

His throat tightened even more. His fists clenched. He was suffocating from the inside out.

He didn’t cry.

He just kept moving—small, painful, desperate rhythms, his body’s frantic attempt to break out of itself.

It felt like it went on forever. But eventually, the storm inside him dulled. Enough for him to breathe again.

Raven sat there, hunched and shaking and gasping, the pain rooting him, the world slowly returning to shape.

He didn’t know how long he’d been gone. But he knew one thing for sure:

No one had seen.

And for now, that was enough.

————

Fifth period was dragging.

It was bad enough that he had a panic attack in school, but as he sat there, feeling choked and constricted, the pain and aches and throbs desensitizing him..

He could feel another one coming.

The lights above flickered just enough to be annoying. Raven sat near the window in history class, jaw tight, knuckles pressed white against his desk. He hadn’t said a word all class. His notes sat untouched.

Someone was bound to notice that.

Mr. Alden, young, always calm, always patient, strolled the aisles as he spoke about revolutionary ideologies—movements, change, resistance.

“Raven,” he said mid-sentence, gesturing toward the board. “You’ve been quiet today. Care to weigh in on the discussion? You've always had insightful thoughts.”

Raven blinked, his vision blurred for half a second. His head was pounding again. His skin too tight. He attempted to speak, and the ache behind his eyes instantly spread to his entire skull. He winced, and when he opened his mouth again, his body tightening painfully so no one could see how bad he was shaking, he found himself spouting words he shouldn't.

“I didn’t ask to be part of this,” he muttered, before he could stop himself.

The class stilled, the air suddenly heavier.

“Sorry?” Mr. Alden turned, caught off guard.

“I said I didn’t ask to be dragged into another meaningless lecture about people who died a hundred years ago. What has that got to do with me?” Raven snapped, louder this time.

Silence.

His chair screeched as he pushed back from the desk. “Do I look like I care about some dead revolutionaries when I can barely even sleep? When I can’t even breathe half the time without choking on expectations?”