Dream On

Chapter Eighteen

"Move out of the way!" a panicked voice called from upstairs. I backed away into a cabinet and saw Isaac and the paramedic carrying Lucas' still body down the stairs, still shaken from my thoughts.

This is all your fault, I thought to myself.

Jake slid next to me, a worried expression on his face. "Everything okay?" he asked softly. "You seem really off today. For obvious reasons," he added quickly.

I shrugged and focused my eyes on a glass bowl on the coffee table. "Yeah," I murmured quietly. "I'm fine. I guess."

"Alright," Jake said hesitantly. "I'm going to the hospital to see what happens. You coming?"

I shook my head. "I think I'll just stay home," I murmured. "I hope everything is alright," I added before walking off to my bedroom.

Ten minutes later, I saw Jake's Mustang pull out of the driveway and speed down the road. A tear slipped down my cheek. This wasn't supposed to happen. Everything was supposed to be working out. Lucas should have still been here, cracking jokes and slapping his bros on the back. Jake and Isaac should be out somewhere, partying and getting drunk. I should have been pigging out on Nutella and watching Netflix with Meg and Lilly.

Yet the world loves to throw curveballs at us.

Mother Nature is an evil being, really. One day, you're all happy and smiling, and the next day, she rains pain down on you like hell on fire. And the worst thing is, it's not just a one-and-done sort of thing. It's constant, never-ending until you die and go to heaven. 

Or hell, in my case.

Grief clouded my gaze and choked my throat, making it hard to breathe. Sobs choked out from my throat, wracking my body until my stomach ached. My mood had two settings: low and lower. I knew what was happening, it wasn't new.

Mother Nature had decided to gift me with a panic attack.

Hell, that was just what I needed.

All I remembered was crying my eyes out and hyperventilating before everything went black.

~~~

When I woke up, all I could hear was my mom's voice echoing around in my head, accompanied by a deeper, more gruff voice. "Is she okay?" I heard my mom cry out, her voice laced with panic.

"She'll be fine," the male voice comforted her.

My eyes fluttered open, feeling crusted and dried-out. "Where am I?" I mumbled groggily, my head hurting from the brightness of the fluorescent lights that seemed to pierce my head and make it spin with dizziness.

My mom's face slowly came into focus. "She's awake!" she called to nobody in particular. I cringed as her voice echoed around the seemingly empty room.

All I could see was white. White walls, white tile flooring, white ceiling, white bedsheets, white machines, even white socks on my feet. Surrounding the bed I sat in was a (you guessed it) white curtain.

"Where am I?" I repeated, my throat a little less scratchy. My eyes met my mother's before traveling to the man sitting next to her. I curled my lip in disgust as I realized who he was.

Lucas' father.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I spat out the words like poison. "You're not welcome here, especially not with my mom."