Supine 'til Aurora • Dan Howell

• Chapter 18 •

I swallowed.

"Thank you, Doctor." He asserted as the man in the white coat nodded solemly, then left the room, leaving us all sat beside my mother, the smell of powerful chemicals laced the air, lingering in our noses.

My mother was going to die.

My entire body shut down as I slid onto the floor, burying my face in my shaking hands, the sobs coming out in broken gasps.

"Oh, stop being so melodramatic, Ava. You all need to grow up." My father grimaced, getting up from his green, plastic chair and heading to the door, pushing past Ashton, the soles of his loafers clacking on the plated flooring.

Ashton remained silent across from us, finally moving to watch our father head towards the exit, though I could clearly see his jaw clenching in rage. This was why he had moved away.

Alex was gasping for breaths beside me, clearly on the verge of hyperventilating as my father shut the grey door behind him, his footsteps growing quieter as he walked down the hallway, leaving us alone and hurting.

Ashton pressed his lips together, letting out a shaky breath before coming over to us both, pulling me up onto the chair next to where he sat, and wrapping his arms around both Alex and I.

The hospital room suddenly seemed to be growing smaller, the air getting thinner as the off white walls closed in. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe.

My first case of claustrophobia, ever, had happened in that hospital room, at the news of my mother's illness not being curable.
On the verge of hyperventilating, I rushed out into the cold night air, gasping, hungry for oxygen.

The attack soon subsided as I sat on the curb as the space around me finally seemed to expand, leaving me thinking about what my father had said to me, my insides a mess of anger and overwhelming sadness.
Slowly, I pressed my hands to my warm forehead, breathing in controlled gasps, as my father's words replayed.

Don't be so melodramatic, Ava.

It rung in my ears and pounded in my skull, every inch of me aching with frustration.

Don't be so melodramatic, Ava.

Don't be so melodramatic, Ava.

Don't be so melodramatic, Ava.

Don't be so-

• Present Day •

As the planes wheels clanked down on the asphalt, rolling into the turf of Helsinki airport, I jolted awake from the dream, beads of sweat dotting my skin.

Not another childhood dream. They were becoming more and more persistent and exponentially more horrendous to endure.

As I readjusted myself to my surroundings once more, the plane pulled to a stop just off the side of the runway, as people began to disembark.

I breathed slowly, pushing the dream from my mind.

Thankfully, I didn't have to go to baggage claim, instead, I would just head straight home in a taxi.