Chapter 28

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Abby's POV

I couldn't breathe. My body was only letting me breathe in and not letting me breathe out. Panic swirled through my veins and I let out a small sob. Memories and flashbacks attacked my brain, making me see fists and kicks and everything all at once.

"Shit, what's happening?" I choked out. I slid to the floor and grasped at my stomach, and my breathing came faster. My hands were shaking so hard they were on the point of convulsions, and my vision was swimming. I saw people stop in front of me and stare, but they didn't do anything. I tried to breathe deep, but it didn't work. Air was a limited supply to me right now.

"Hey, are you alright?" I looked over and saw a girl about my age squatting down beside me. She had big brown eyes and long black hair, which almost touched the floor, hanging off of her tiny shoulders in waves. She was so short her hair seemed to envelop her, like a safety blanket. Her knees were up to her chin, her eyebrows arching together in concern.

I tried to say 'I'm fine', but no words were coming out. So I just nodded.

She eyed me warily. "I think you're having a panic attack. Just stop thinking about whatever's scaring you. It'll get better, I promise."

A panic attack? I've never had one of these before - not even after my dad hit me. I've heard about them. Some girl named Natalie had these at my school, and I remember she had one in the middle of class. We all had to give her room as she was on the floor gasping and shaking and crying. It was pretty sad, actually. Was that what I looked like now?

I looked at her with wildly confused eyes. "Wha-" I gasped.

She looked up, locking eyes with a tall blonde boy. "Dustin, get a brown paper bag from a restaurant or something, please."

Dustin?

Immediately I imagined the slender, small Dustin from the safety home. That just made my breathing even more ragged, as I stared at the new Dustin run off and enter the coffee shop.

"Oh, those scars that she hides with those stars in her eyes. Depression is like drowning - being pulled down by all those currents and not being able to breathe - oh, what is air, what is air? And everybody around you is getting air, but you can barely fathom the thought of it. Two broken souls on the cold tiles of a home for wrecked and destroyed children, in the wee hours of the morn', their broken souls tied together with a string of understanding yet curiosity, oh those scars that we hide so desperately."

I remembered Parker's poem that he had made up on the spot - how depression was like drowning and we needed air. I'd never needed air more than I did then, not even when my father strangled me.

"Would you like me to hold your hand?" The girl asked, staring at my tightly clenched fists. Her eyes were wide and innocent, immediately reminding me of Zoey and Clary. Why were there so many similar, amazing people in the world? The black ribbon was still in my hands, and I shakily shoved it into my pocket. She held her hand out, pale and small. I hesitated.

She smiled sweetly. "You don't have to if you don't want to. It's just that when I have panic attacks, I always feel better when Dustin holds my hand."

And with those words, I clasped onto her fingers for dear life. She squeezed back gently, her pale fingers surprisingly strong and warm. And somehow - that small stranger made me feel like the safest person in the world.

Dustin came jogging out of the coffee shop and crouched down next to the girl, who had been continuously talking to me. She was 15, and her name was Vanessa. Dustin and her had been together since eighth grade. She's had panic attacks since seventh grade, and he was the one who helped her through it.

"How's she doing, Ness?"

Vanessa shrugged. "She'll get better."

She gave me the brown paper bag and told me to breathe in and out of it.

I looked at her, and if I could talk, I would've said, I thought people only did that in movies.

Vanessa laughed and stopped squatting, sitting down directly on the floor, bringing her tights-covered legs to the side and smoothing down her maroon dress. Dustin came down with her, holding one of her hands. "I know, I know, it looks stupid. But it really helps."

I slowly brought the bag to my mouth and breathed.

And somehow, it did help.

I forgot all about the black ribbon.

I forgot about everything, and I breathed for the first time ever, inhaling and exhaling slowly and shakily into the musty smelling bag.

I've been drowning, and I finally got to breathe.

Vanessa grinned and patted my back slightly, making me jump.

Her eyes widened and she pulled back, biting her lip. "Sorry."

I shrugged it off and took the bag away from my face, my breathing more normal now. "T-Thank you."

Her and Dustin shrugged at the same time, saying, "No problem."

I smiled at them. They were a really cute couple.

Dustin stood up, helping Vanessa up and then holding out a hand to help me up. I faltered but grabbed it, feeling much better.

"What high school do you go to? Maybe we'll see you around." Dustin asked.

"Oh - I'm home schooled. I just moved here, actually, I'm living with my aunt."

Vanessa 'ooh'ed. "I've always wanted to be home-schooled."

"But then you never would've met me!" Dustin exclaimed.

Vanessa smiled teasingly. "Wouldn't make that much of a difference in my life."

Dustin raised his eyebrows. "I'm offended, Nessie."

She wrinkled her nose. "Don't call me that."

"Nessie!" He shouted back, teasing her and kissing her nose.

I laughed at them. They were freaking adorable. But sadness ate away at my mind and soul - they acted so much like Austin and I did.

"Look, I've really gotta get home. Thank you so much for your help, Vanessa. You too, Dustin." I smiled at them, my legs still shaking slightly. The black ribbon was still nagging me at the back of my mind. I didn't feel safe anymore - I felt too...out-in-the-open. I unconsciously tugged my sleeves down to cover my unbruised wrists.

"It's fine, we're glad we could help!" Vanessa piped up. She looked as if she wanted to go in for a hug, but just extended a hand instead. I grasped it, sending her another silent 'thank-you' with my eyes. I took Dustin's hand too, and then backed away.

I waved good-bye to them, and started walking home. I walked as fast as I could without running, and yanked the ribbon out of my pocket.

I've found you.

I shuddered, and now more than ever I wanted to talk to Austin. I wish I had saved my phone call.

I wasn't going to be stupid about this. I've learned that keeping quiet about things never helped. I shoved it back in my pocket, deciding I was going to tell Amy about this. Tonight. I stepped onto the condo's two steps, and stopped.

There, tied onto the doorknob, was a black ribbon.

Abused {ACM}Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora