Fight For Me ✔

Chapter 16

"Doctor Samuel's office this is doct-" I interrupt before he finishes.

"Doc! Quit it, it's Liam! Something's wrong with Caia! She's awake but not responding, she's cold as ice but sweating and she can't breathe properly and-"

"Liam! Quiet boy and tell me what happened." I tell him everything I saw and heard and repeat her symptoms. "Doc, what do I do?" I plead desperately.

"Well, I'll tell you what you absolutely must not do and that is panic. Sounds like she's having a panic attack, and if you don't calm down you'll only make it worse so take a few deep breaths." I close my eyes and think about breathing as if I'm out running, deep and steadily, as the doc explains what to do. "Take her somewhere quiet. Be careful when handling her, no sudden or big movements and talk to her, ask her what she needs from you, it doesn't matter if she answers as long as you are the picture of calmness and clarity, your calmness will calm her. Try to get her to breath to a rhythm, count out loud to ten or something and try to keep her warm. Do what she asks, even if it means you have to back away. Ask if she takes medicine and text me, got it?"

"Got it." I hang up on him and carefully pick her slight form up. She whimpers a little more and hug her middle but she doesn't fight me and I praise myself lucky for that.

I carry her back towards the house where ma is standing in the doorway in loose yoga pants, a cream colored tank and braided hair.

Perfect, I think to myself with satisfaction.

"What happened?!" she erupts loudly.

"Shh, quiet ma, she's having some sort of panic attack so you need to practice some coolness. I'm taking her to your studio." Ma's eyes light with understanding and steps out of my way and follow close behind me to her yoga studio.

Some years ago ma became a little health obsessed and started doing all sorts of crazy shit and made me and dad do the same. And I mean the whole enchilada; tofu, herb tea , meditation, mud baths, spiritual ceremonies, all kinds of weird 'healthy' diets and much, much more. Luckily that only lasted for about a month then we where back to steaks, coffee and long hours in front of the TV. The only thing she stuck to was the meditation, yoga and scented candles but apparently dad and me bitched too much so she stopped making us do it. As a 'thank-you-for-not-making-me-go-through-anymore-torturous -positions-and-horrible-foods- that-was-never-meant-for-a-man-of-my-age-and-health' my dad converted our sun lounge into a yoga studio for ma where she could find her 'inner peace'. It was made in light colors, warm and sunny and I had to admit some of those candles smelled pretty nice. Also ma always put on some calming natural music so the studio was perfect for Bambi right now.

When we enter the room the smell of something fruity and the sound of wind and trees swaying greets us. I walk to the divan and carefully place my fragile burden. She immediately curl up again and I slowly sink down beside her. When she doesn't shy away from me I place my arms around her and begin rocking her like I did outside and try to soothe her with my voice.

"Hush now Bambi, everything's alright, you're gonna be alright. Shh..." I keep randomly whispering encouraging words to her. Keep telling her she's safe, that I'll never let anything happen to her and I praise her for doing so good even if she's really not. Eventually her breathing eases but the tears continues to fall although the occasional sob has turned to a continuous bout of grievous crying. Her shoulders shake lightly as they are bound to do when somebody is quietly weeping and I think some part of her mind is still trapped in whatever nightmare that brought on the panic attack.

She moves, brings her arms around me and clings like she's drowning in the ocean. I slowly release her with one arm and she hugs me tighter as if afraid that I'll let go. But I place my arm under her legs and lift her onto my lap. Then I lay down on the divan before hugging her firmly to my chest where she buries her face.

I don't know how long we are like this but eventually I feel confident enough to lift her head from my chest and look at her face.

It's still taut with grief and her eyes are still absent but no longer quite as terrified. They are red rimmed from all the crying, her face is pale and the tears have drawn lines down her cheeks. I was right, she's still caught up in her own personal hell.

"They're after me." She whispers.

I cup her cheek and stroke my thumb across the bone there, "Who's after you Bambi?"

She shakes her head and says "They're gonna kill me." Her lower lip wobbles and her eyes darken. I quickly press her face into my neck, holding her to me by the back of her head as I stroke her back comfortingly.

"Mommy... Daddy..." she moans like a lost child.

"Easy there Bambi. Nobody will get to you, they won't even come close. I'll never let them." I kiss the top of her hair and mutters into it "I swear."

And they won't. I don't care what she's afraid of. Who she's afraid of. All I know is if I ever get a shot at whoever hurt her, whoever made her frightened and withdrawn I'll make them pay.

Dearly.