[Just for the record, for those of you who have never had a panic attack, it is like this. It can happen because of things that don't really 'make sense' or can happen for no reason at all.]
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Margarita stared at her computer screen, mildly regretting the deletion of the chat. She was only angry with Alice, and found herself worrying that the others thought she was mad at them, as well.
She opened a chat with Alice without thinking.
Margarita: Honestly, I think you should know better. We're all worried about Pippa already. Of course I was wondering if she was dead, but you know what? I have these two things some people call intelligence and maturity, which means I can recognize when something isn't appropriate to say. I'm well aware that you love to pretend to have both those qualities, but rest assured, you don't.
Margarita hit send and regretted it immediately.
'OXF@RD is typing,' came up at the bottom of the chat. Margarita closed Zodiak before Alice could send whatever she was typing.
Anxiety rose in her stomach.
She stood and paced around the room.
Her fingers tingled.
'What if she kills herself?'
Margarita walked to the bathroom.
'Distraction.'
'Distraction helped.'
The bathroom floor was cold.
She could feel it through her socks.
'She talks about suicide sometimes.'
Margarita turned the water on at the highest temperature.
'She's going to kill herself and it will be your fault.'
Margarita ran her hands under the water.
It was too hot.
Steam rose from the faucet.
Her stomach tangled up in itself.
She closed her eyes.
Splashed the water on her face.
The water mixed with her mascara and bled into her eye.
It hurt.
'Distraction.'
Pain.
'Distraction.'
She rubbed her eye automatically, and the pain faded.
Spots swam in her vision from the pressure of her fist.
They didn't fade.
'Breath.'
She breathed.
In, out, quickly.
Quickly.
'Too quick.'
She swayed.
The bile in her stomach followed her movements.
Her stomach did not.
'Breath.'
She was crying.
'Distraction.'
Mascara still clung to her lashes.
'Suicide.'
Vomit clogged her throat.
She coughed, and threw up in the sink.
Her ears were buzzing.
Her head was buzzing.
Her limbs were buzzing.
Her body was a vibration.
She couldn't see.
'Breath.'
She thought she might have thrown up again.
Her eyes still hurt.
She knew that, somehow.
Her back felt cold.
Bathroom floor.
Cold.
Had she fainted?
Her breathing steadied itself slowly.
The pungent smell of vomit stung her nose.
Her eyes cleared.
She was staring at the ceiling.
Snot was pooled under her nose and had trickled down her lips.
She felt weak and queasy.
She felt like she was about to cry.
She closed her throat to stop herself.
A sob slipped out anyway.
She rolled onto her side.
She was facing the sink.
Vomit was running down the white porcelain and pooling on the floor.
She gagged.
Rolled the other way.
"Margarita?"
It was her mother's voice, gentle and concerned.
Cool hands trailed along her jaw and forehead.
"Margarita, sweetie."
Her mother sounded like sore throats and bound tears.
Margarita sat up slowly.
"Do you need to lay down?"
Margarita nodded.
Her mother helped her to her feet and into her room.
She collapsed on the bed.
Her mother left.
Closed the door behind her.
The sheets felt cold as linoleum.
The air felt hot and feverish.
Spots swam again.
Dizzying currents pulled her into sleep.
BINABASA MO ANG
Crossing Stars
Teen Fiction[Quick warning: some of the sexual and death related content in this could bother some people. It's probably fine for most teenagers and older, but if that sort of thing bothers you a lot, you might not want to read it.] Life is hard, especially for...
