Breathe

Feels like there's a hand wrapped around my neck making me struggle to breathe, like there's this thing that takes over and makes my hands shake, my mind over thinks and my body no longer becomes mine, I feel like there's something next to me telling me I'm not I'm gonna be okay, and all I'm doing is sitting in somebodies car.

The car smells like dog and I had to put a blanket on the seat so I'm not directly seating on the seat itself. I'm nervous to put my feet on the ground because there just dirt and sand. It's disgusting and smells weird, and it makes me feel unnerving.

I'm sitting in the back seat trying not to cry, my window down as far as it can go so I can try and breathe. It's not the dirtiest I've seen a car, but it's the longest I've been in a dirty car. 3 hours. There and back. 6 altogether. That thought in itself makes me want to cry.

The owner of the car is only just learning to drive, my father in the passenger seat beside her, guiding her. She hits the curb, my hands clench. She hits the curb again, and my hands begin to shake nervously.
"Dad can we stop at the next stop please, my legs are becoming numb" I ask in a small  voice, my words seem to get lost in the wind, he doesn't respond.

I lift my feet and put them under me, all I can think about was how dirty the floor is and the thought itself made me feel sick. Her sickly laugh echos through the car, bouncing off the windows and flying out my open one. I don't know what she's laughing at, as I'm so focused on my breathing. In, Out. In, Out. A panic attack creeps it's way up the back of my throat.
"Dad" I attempt to scream, but it comes out as a whisper.

Hands to my throat I call out for him again, "Dad please" he heard me. He turns around in his chair to see what's wrong, his eyes widen as he sees me holding my throat with both hands and the tears silently falling down. Turning back around he tells the learner to pull over.

Quickly getting me out of the car, he sees my shoulders slump back and I start to remove my hands away from my throat slowly. I can breathe.
"I'm okay" I take a few deep breathes, feeling as if I haven't breathed fresh hair for years.

I sit on the floor of the bush that we were passing through to steady my heart rate just at the thought of having to get back in that car for another hour and a half, I hear a grunt behind me and I turn my head. "What was that even about, who cry's about being in a car for a long time" the learner starts raising her voice at me, for ruining her concentration and the fact that she believes I'm being over dramatic. Closing my eyes I ignore her words. A dirty person like her wouldn't understand.

She wouldn't understand that I'm scared of dirt. I'm scared of what lives in it. With a sigh I get up from my position. I'm ready to get back in the car so I can get back to the safety of my home. And with a big breathe and my window all the way down we continue our journey, and the process starts all over again.