Content Warning: Panic Attacks
Chapter 2 : Madelyn
Monday, July 12th, 2021
Knowing a hotel is probably my best option, I pull over to the side of the road. I was scrolling on Google when James Arthur's, Say You Won't Let Go, came on the radio. Yeah, it's a bit too soon for that.
Switching the station, I continue my search in trying to find a place within my price range.
Glancing at the dial, I see that it's only 12:00. I definitely have some time to kill, so I decide to drive around town and find some places to post my business cards.
As a photographer, it wasn't always the easiest to get clients, and the fact that I'm new to New York doesn't help either. Now that I'm living on my own, I'm going to need as many projects as I can get.
For the rest of the day, I find myself walking around town, busying myself with some of the shops and boutiques. Thankfully, my afternoon manages to pass by smoothly, and I've been able to find a couple of boards to post my cards on. I took advantage of as many distractions as I could in an attempt to resist the impending urge to break down into tears. I know Noah was bad for me. I really do. Unfortunately, that realization doesn't make the ache in my heart any easier.
But now, as I stand in the parking lot of this quiet, serene hotel, I'm struggling to contain what I have tried so hard to push down today. Pure and utter sadness.
I know the second I walk behind the closed door of a hotel room, I will lose my composure, but I can't avoid my emotions any longer. The sun was setting and soon New York would be blanketed in a sheet of darkness, forcing me to face the containment of my own thoughts.
Going into the building, I move over to the front desk where a kind lady is working. After paying for a single person bedroom, I find myself in an elevator that takes me up to the second floor. With my key card and duffel bag in hand, I walk down the narrow hallway, looking at each door I pass.
141, 143, 145, 147, 149... 155. That would be me.
Fuck, I'm so not ready for this yet.
Knowing I could put it off no longer, I opened the door that took me into a small, but suitable room.
Switching on the light, I'm able to get a clear view of the place I'll be staying in for the next few days.
Centered below a large painting was a rectangular, plush bed that looked like it was made of clouds. The dark wooden frame matched the knee height table beside it, with two additional chairs for seating. Opposite to the wall of my bed was built in shelves where a small television was placed.
Damn, this single room was nicer than my entire house. Or old house I guess. The feature that really caught my attention however was the entire back wall that was lined with floor to ceiling windows. It was truly breathtaking.
I place my bag onto the cold, hardwood floor and step inside. It's completely silent, with only the faint sound of the fan to keep me company. I walk over and take a seat on the extremely comfortable mattress, and for the first time today, I'm forced to listen to my intruding thoughts.
"I'm fine." I tell myself, letting out a heavy breath.
I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine.
I tried my best to shove down the tight feeling that was already threatening to appear in my chest, but it became hard to breathe. Like really, really hard. I wasn't cold, but my body soon became a shaking disaster, as harsh emotions took over my body.
I let out quick, shallow breaths and wrap my arms tightly around each other, as if I were hugging myself. My mind goes completely blank and soon the only thing I'm able to think of is the fact that I am completely and utterly alone. Noah was right. I have no one.
These thoughts consume me and play in a continuous loop in my head. Over and over, I am reminded that no matter what I do and how hard I try to make myself into someone who is lovable, no one ever stays.
I'm well aware at this point that I'm having a panic attack, but I can't do anything to stop it as waves upon waves of emotion crash through me.
Even as I press my lips tightly together, I can't contain the uncontrollable sobs from escaping. I really don't want to wake the person next door, but it's nearly impossible to calm myself down when this happens.
Closing my eyes, I try my best to focus on taking deep breaths.
It's just like my dad taught me.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven." I count in slow beats, inhaling air through my nose.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven." I count, exhaling a shaky breath from my mouth.
I have to do this multiple times; breath in, breath out.
I force myself to focus on steadying my racing heart, but it hurts. It hurts so bad. Even as my body begins to calm, I still find myself in pain. I could feel the tears on my face that I don't remember shedding, and the thin line of sweat that has formed along my forehead. I only just realized how tightly I was gripping onto my arms, and when I loosen it, I see half-moon indents lining my skin.
Shit. I didn't even feel myself doing that.
The last time I had a panic attack was six months ago when my dad went missing. I thought I had everything under control, but I guess not.
Laying back on the bed, after a while, I feel myself slowly come down from my panicked state. The tightness in my chest dissolves and I let out a long sigh.
Moving under the warmth of the covers, I ignore the fact that the lights are still on, not having the energy to turn them off.
I need sleep.
My heavy eyes fall shut while my head rests against the soft pillow. I find myself once again shoving all of my negative thoughts back inside to a place that I don't acknowledge.
I'm fine.
Tomorrow is going to be a better day and things will get easier. They have to.
__________
Thursday, July 15th, 2021
I can't fall asleep. I haven't been able to for the last two and a half days in this isolated hotel room. For the last hour, I've been switching between laying on my left side, only to roll onto my right seconds later. My mind simply wouldn't shut off, and the relentless headache I'm experiencing right now is a constant reminder of the cause of my tears.
I hate crying. It makes me feel weak. Vulnerable.
Because of this, I have learned that hiding behind a mask is my easiest form of survival. I smile through the silent pain, I cry behind closed doors, and I continue to fight off the countless battles that rage inside of my head. People have seen me angry and people have seen me scared, but the one thing I refuse to let them see is how truly broken I am on the inside.
So instead, these bottled up emotions are replaced with internal hatred to mask the fact that I'm hurting. I hate my body. I hate how weak I am, even though I try so hard to be anything but. I hate Noah for what he did to me, but I hate myself even more for letting him.
I hate and I hate and I hate, when all I've ever wanted is to love. To be loved in return.
Continuing to toss and turn in my bed, I eventually give up on my attempt to sleep for the third night in a row. I'm exhausted and slightly dizzy, but no matter what I do, I can't seem to calm my restless mind.
Swinging my feet over the edge of my bed, I grab a black hair elastic from my bedside table. Trying to tie up my knotted dirty blonde locks, it ends up turning into a pathetic excuse for a bun. Great, I can't even do that right.
I really need some fresh air.
Tugging at the zipper on my duffel bag, I confront the disaster I know awaits me. I haven't found the motivation to organize any of my clothes yet, so for now my belongings lay in a messy, wrinkled pile.
I pull out a box of my business cards, and set it beside me before scavenging through the mess in hopes of finding something warm to wear. Settling on my fleece lined hoodie, I slip it on over my head, instantly finding comfort in the soft material.
Walking into the bathroom, I catch my reflection in the mirror. I look like an absolute train wreck. I'm emotionally spent from the breakup, and my lack of sleep is shown very clearly on my face.
I have two day old mascara smudged under my eyes, and I was right to assume the messy bun on my head was a disaster.
Overall, I just looked sick.
Dark bags hang under my green eyes that are dulled in comparison to their usual vibrant colour. Oh god. I look like my mother. The thought alone was enough to horrify me.
Thankfully, on the side of the marble counter is a beauty kit provided by the hotel, including makeup wipes. While it's only a little bit of mascara and eyeliner that needs to be removed, I'd rather not sleep in it- or try to I suppose.
Afterwards, I manage to make myself look slightly more presentable, but only a shower and a solid night's rest will be able to fix this. Oh well, it'll do for now.
Exiting the bathroom, I grab my phone and wireless earbuds from my night side table, placing them in my pockets for safe keeping. Slipping on a pair of Vans, and double checking to make sure my room key is still on me, I walk out, the door automatically shutting behind me.
I take the elevator down to the quiet, abandoned lobby, where the faint smell of chlorine lingers in the air from the pool nearby.
Heading towards the exit, I put in one headphone, making sure to leave the other in its case. It can never hurt to be too safe.
The sliding glass doors open, sensing my motion.
Stepping outside, a cool breath of fresh air instantly fills my lungs, and I find myself relaxing for the first time in days.
This is exactly what I needed.
Not feeling comfortable enough to stray far from the safety of the building, I settled on leaning my body against the rough wall directly to the left of the entryway.
I power on my phone for the first time since looking up this place, deciding to stop being a coward and to face I'm sure the many messages from Noah. To my greatest surprise however, there's only one.
From Noah: Your going to regret leaving me.
I let out a scoff. Sure I am. The fact that he's a grown man and still can't use the correct you're is reason enough to move on.
Ignoring it, I delete Noah's contact from my phone. I know it's going to take me a long time to recover from him, but I figured this was the first step in the healing process.
Exiting my messages app, I switch to my music, trying to find a good song to match my mood. My concentration, however, is cut off by the sharp sound of a woman's scream piercing the air.
Shit, where did that come from?
"Please, no!" I hear a voice cry.
Moving from my spot on the wall, I run towards the direction of the screams, my heart thumping with every step I take.
Carrying my body as quickly as I can, I stop myself at the corner of the building that connects to the back wall.
The cries are louder now, and I know that people are on the other side. But what caused me to hesitate was that the once feminine pleas were now sounding like they were coming from a man's mouth.
"Please don't kill me." I hear. "It's not what it looks like I swear."
Quickly and silently, I move so that my body is covered by a large metal dumpster that provides a clear view to the unexpected scene before me.
A small, dark-haired woman who looks similar to my age is sitting on the ground with her knees tucked tightly to her chest. She's shaking, but I can't tell whether it's out of fear or the fact that she only has a tank top and a pair of sleep shorts on to keep her warm.
That wasn't the surprising thing though. No, what surprised me were the three large men who stood over a much smaller one. They all had black ski masks on to hide their faces, one of which also had a gun in hand.
With a slight nod of the armed man's head, the two others suddenly began driving their feet into the helpless man's body repeatedly.
Over and over again, the man would cry out or groan with each impact, trying to shield himself from his attackers. But he was too weak to fight back, and too slow to get up and run.
Holy shit. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest, it's a wonder they can't hear the sound of it.
They continued their assault, until the man became unmoving and now unrecognizable from the blood and bruises that covered his face.
I needed to call for help. I could feel the heavy weight of my phone in my side pocket, but I was completely frozen in place.
I just stayed there, crouched and hidden, while I watched the life of another being beaten out of him. After what seemed like forever, the two men finally halted their movements, just as the largest of the three stepped forward.
"NO! NO PLEASE DON'T DO THIS!" The man begs as he suddenly becomes frantic. Well as frantic as he can be considering he is practically unable to move.
The man who's standing lifts his gun, so that it rests on the middle of the other man's forehead. He just holds it there for a moment, allowing the fear of death to accumulate within the person on the ground.
"Hey." The girl speaks for the first time since I showed up. "Don't feel like you have to do this. I'm fine if you just want to leave. He's more than learned his lesson."
He moved his head towards the brunette, mumbling something to her, but his voice was so deep and so low that I wasn't able to make out his words.
The girl just looks down, and his attention is redirected back to the sobbing man on the ground.
I really should be doing something to stop this. Anything other than just sitting here, but I don't. I shift my weight slightly and realize that I'm now able to move, yet still, I do nothing to help this man.
For some reason, a darker side of me that I didn't even know I had, was more than okay with the thought of him dying.
It doesn't take a genius to guess what his intentions were, and for this reason, I keep quiet. No explanation can justify taking advantage of another person, so despite the fact that I'm now able to move, I don't use my phone to call for help.
Of course, that still didn't stop my stomach from churning at the sound of a bullet shooting out, and echoing throughout the otherwise silent area.
I subconsciously hear a loud gasp coming from someone in the background, but I don't look to see where it came from. Instead, I take in the gruesome sight before me.
Blood has shot out and splattered across the brick wall, pooling onto the cold pavement from the now dead man's head.
I'm most definitely in shock, but at the same time, no matter how much I should, I can't bring myself to feel any pity or sadness for him. I think I'm more surprised the masked person was able to kill so easily, and without hesitation, than the dead person himself. Wait. The masked man.
Remembering that I'm not alone, I shoot my head up and my heart literally stops beating for a moment as I meet dark, black eyes piercing into me.
Fuck.
Realizing that the loud gasp I heard came from my own betraying body, I clasp my hand to my mouth even though the damage has already been done. I'm met with four sets of eyes, all of our bodies unmoving.
I was so caught up in the sight before me that I forgot that the others were still very much there. My body must have subconsciously shifted to get a better look.
How the hell am I going to get out of this one?
Making the first move, one of the men takes a step towards me, causing my fight or flight mode to kick in instantly.
Using the slight distance between us to my advantage, I turn and bolt out from behind the dumpster, before he even has the chance to put his foot down.
I know that I'm screwed if he catches me, so I push down the already burning feeling that has started in my chest.
Sprinting as fast as my small body will allow me to move, I rush towards my only hope of safety. For a split second, I turn my head around, just to see a large figure quickly approaching behind me.
I wanted to scream out for help, but my body physically wouldn't let me. At this moment, the only thing I was capable of was running. I was so close to the door, but the masked man was hot on my trail.
Even if he follows me into the hotel, at least I won't be alone there. I'll have some form of shelter, and it's my only fighting chance at life.
I was so close, I could practically taste the feeling of safety in the air.
This hope dies however when I feel the sudden grasp of a hand on my neck. I'm pulled towards him, so that my back is pressed against his front.
A slight whimper falls from my mouth as I feel the man's large hand on my skin. He repositions his grip, so that his finger could drag up along the side of my throat before moving to trace the edge of my jaw.
I was absolutely terrified, once again frozen in fear. He has caught his prey, and the worst part about it was that I could practically sense the amusement radiating off of him by my petrified state. My hands go up and grab onto his wrists, but they don't budge.
"Where exactly do you think you're going, princess?" A deep, husky voice asks in my ear, ignoring my efforts to get out of his hold.
I can feel the warmth of each breath he takes, contrasting his ice cold grip on my neck.
It causes a shiver to run down the spine of my back and goosebumps to appear along the sides of my arms. My chest is rising and falling quickly, and my heart pounds rapidly against my restraint.
He's not hurting me, but it's still enough to keep me pinned to him.
"You're quite the runner for a tiny thing like you." The man continues, talking to himself at this point since I physically can't bring myself to answer right now.
"What you saw back there, it's not what you think."
Finally managing to find my voice, I answer quietly, yet forcefully. "Really? Because to me, it looked like your friend just put a bullet between another man's eyes."
His body stiffens at the sound of my voice. I bet he didn't expect me to talk at all, especially in that tone to someone who quite literally has my life in his hands. If I'm going to die, it's not going to be without a fight.
"And yet, you did nothing to stop it." He counters.
With his one hand still on my throat, he moves his other so that it brushes down the left side of my leg and to where my pocket was. Slipping into it, he pulls out an item and even though I can't see, I already know what it is. "I don't know about you, but this looks like a perfectly functioning phone to me." He says, clicking on the power button to reveal a picture of Noah and I as the wallpaper.
I make a mental note that if I get out of this alive, to change that to something else. As for his comment, he got me there. I didn't do anything to stop it, even though I know I should have.
"What, now you have nothing to say? You seemed to have had plenty only a few seconds ago when you pretended to understand a situation you know nothing about."
"What am I missing here?" I snap. "Your friend murdered someone, and you can't say otherwise."
"That man you're so quick to defend, was about to rape someone. Don't make him out to be a saint."
"I am not defending him, and I'm well aware of what his intentions were. Why else do you think I ran back there? I was going to help her." I say, getting angry now.
"And how exactly were you going to do that, hmm? You can't be taller than what, 5'6''? You have no muscle and while I admit that you're fast, you can't fight someone by running."
Who does this guy think he is? I am more than capable of handling myself.
"You'd be surprised at the things I can do." I spat out, trying to sound threatening.
"Yeah?" He says, and I can hear him smile from behind me. "I bet I would."
Fucking asshole. He knows I didn't mean it like that.
Leaning into my ear, his lips slightly brush against me, causing me to feel things that I most definitely should not be feeling considering the situation. I quickly snapped out of it, however, at the sound of his voice.
"Doesn't change what you saw though." He whispers.
Placing my phone in his back pocket, I start to thrash my body in any way that I can to get out of his hold. My attempts are unsuccessful though.
"Let me go." I demand, still struggling against him.
"Sorry princess, but you know I can't do that. You're going to have a quick nap, but don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you as long as you cooperate."
With one hand still on my hip, keeping me to him, he lets go of my neck and reaches into his jacket pocket. Pulling out a black cloth, I've seen enough movies to guess that it has Chloroform on it.
This isn't happening. I won't let it.
Knowing that this is my last chance to fight back before I lose consciousness, I use his lessened grip on my body to my advantage.
As he goes to raise the cloth to my face, I know that it's now or never. Bringing my elbow up, I drive it as hard as I can into his hard stomach before twisting my hips to release myself entirely from his grasp.
I hear my phone drop from his pocket, but I can't be bothered to grab it. I'm already moving in the opposite direction.
My heart skips a beat at the feeling on his hand just barely brushing against my hoodie, in an attempt to pull me back. Thankfully, he's just a split second too slow.
Before I know it, I find myself turning the corner, and throwing my body ungracefully into the lobby.
I don't stop running until I slam into the front desk. The receptionist looks a little startled by my entrance and gives me a concerned look.
"Call 911." I choke out over my frantic, heavy breaths. I turned my body around, expecting to see the man chasing me to appear, but there was no one in the room other than me and the woman at the desk.
"Ma'am, is everything alright?"
"No, please. You have to call 911. There's been a murder." The woman doesn't move from her spot. She just stands in front of me frozen in place as if she's unsure on what to do. What the fuck is she thinking?
Her eyes flick between me and the door a couple of times and I notice. Turning to see what she's looking at, there's absolutely nothing, but the streetlights lining the parking lot.
Moving my head back towards her, I am beyond confused. Is she in shock or something? "What are you doing? Please, I dropped my phone outside, so I need you to call the police." Finally she comes to her senses, reaching out to the phone on the front desk.
"911, what's your emergency?" I faintly hear a voice on the other end of the phone say.
After that, my brain sort of just shuts off from my surroundings. I'm safe. Absolutely exhausted, but safe.
"Miss?"
I flick my head up to the receptionist.
"The police are on their way, but they're going to want to speak to you. If you want, you can go sit down over there to wait. It seems like you could use it."
Looking over to the seating area she was referring to, I nod my head and give her a small smile in thanks.
The second I'm beside the leather couch, my knees give in and I fall backwards, sitting down.
I lean forward so that my elbows rest on my thighs, and my head falls into my waiting hands.
Did I do something wrong? Is this the universe's sick way of getting back at me for something I did?
Today just doesn't feel real. I have officially lost every close person in my life, became a witness to murder, and I'm probably going to go broke within a week if I don't find a way to get my shit together.
I want to cry, but I don't think my body is even capable of that right now. I don't have the energy for tears. So instead, I cry on the inside, waiting for the police to come in and question me. It doesn't take long before two officers, one male, one female, enter the hotel.
"Miss Adams?" The woman questions, looking at me.
How'd she know my name?
Sensing my slight confusion, she tells me that the lady at the front desk opened my file when the 911 call receiver asked for it.
"Oh okay." Is all I say.
She and her partner sit on a couch across from me, them both treating me as if I were some fragile object that could shatter at any second. Who knows, I might just.
"My name is Charlotte Jones and this is my partner Carson Williams. We're just here to ask you a few questions about what you witnessed tonight. Is that alright with you?"
I just nod my head.
"Okay. We'll start off simple. Can you tell us in your own words what happened?"
I sniffle, rubbing my tired eyes.
"I was out front of the hotel when I heard a woman's scream..."
__________
I answered multiple questions for about an hour, while the seemingly kind officer took notes on everything I told her. We talked about what I saw, descriptions of the brunette and the deceased man, what I remember, and how I got there.
The lady continued to talk to me, while Officer Williams left to investigate the back of the building. He left almost as quickly as he came in.
"Do you need a break?" Officer Jones asks. "You seem a little out of it right now."
I didn't even realize I was starting to zone out until she mentioned it. Giving my head a shake to clear my mind, I give her my full attention.
"No. I'm sorry. It's just been a really long day, and I want to get this over with."
"That's completely understandable. We should be done soon, but I'll need a way to contact you if we have any further questions."
"Does my phone number work?"
"Yes, that's more than suitable. I'm also going to need your address."
She slid me a piece of paper and the same pen she was using to take notes with earlier.
I jot down my name, address, and contact information before handing it back to her.
"This is technically my current address, but I'm going to be staying here for a few more days if you need to find me." I told her, since I wrote down mine and Noah's address on the paper.
Just as she's about to respond, Officer Williams walks through the entrance, giving a slight nod to his partner.
"Miss, I understand this may be hard for you to do, but I'm going to need you to take us to the exact location of where you said the murder occurred." Officer Williams tells me.
"What why? It can't be hard to miss, there's blood everywhere."
"I'm sorry, but I checked the entire back area twice. There wasn't a single trace of evidence confirming your story."
"W-what? That's not possible." I say, rising to my feet.
"Miss, we're not saying that we don't believe you, but what I am saying is that there was nothing-."
I cut him off. "It's fine, I'll just show you. It's literally right around the back corner." I mentally curse myself for being so rude, but I seriously don't have time for this right now. I just want to go to bed, even if I'm still unable to fall asleep.
"You lead the way, Miss Adams. We understand it's not easy to be back in a place associated with a traumatic experience, so take as much time as you need."
"I'm fine."
Pulling the hood of my sweater over my head, I walk out of the safety of the hotel, and back into the real world. Both officers were following right behind me. I could hear them quietly talking, but I didn't care to listen to what they were saying.
"This is it right here." I say looking back at them, before turning the corner to face the place that would likely be the feature of my nightmares for the next few days.
I see the same dumpster I hid behind. I see the wall where the girl's back rested against. I see the pavement that once grounded a very much, dead man. I see everything the same way as I did before, but where was all the blood?
What the fuck is going on?
I turn around to face the officers who are looking at me with slight concern on their faces.
"I don't understand. It was right here. A man died, right here."
"Listen. We're not accusing you of anything, but I have to ask. Is it possible that you could have been hallucinating, or suffering from some type of mental disorder?" Officer Williams warily asks.
He can't be serious?
"You think I made this up?"
"We aren't saying that, but we have to consider all possibilities. The fact of this is that there isn't a single bit of evidence confirming your story. You described a scene where there was a lot of blood, and based on the short time it took us to get here, it wouldn't be possible for the scene to be cleaned up so quickly. We're going to send out a forensics team first thing and have a few officers stand here tonight to ensure that the crime scene stays untouched. Unfortunately, this is all we can do at the moment."
"This isn't possible. I know what I saw."
"Well the forensics team can confirm that tomorrow. I'm more focused on you, though. Have you been sleeping enough recently? You seem exhausted."
"Yeah, I am. I haven't slept for a few days, and it's just catching up to me."
Officer Williams gives his partner a knowing look that scares me.
"What is it?"
This time, it's Officer Jones that speaks.
"Well you see, it's not uncommon for people to hallucinate when they experience certain levels of sleep deprivation."
I am not crazy.
"Doctors aren't too sure why, but even after 24 hours, people can start to experience illusions and hallucinations. However, it is highly likely after a person is awake for 36 to 48 hours. In your case, you said it's been how long since you last slept?"
Shit. Is she right?
"Just over 48." I mumble, mortified at the possibility that I made such a fuss over something that might not have even happened.
"Okay. Well a patrol is already on their way to ensure that the scene stays preserved. Try and get some rest. You need it. We'll be contacting you again tomorrow, but hallucinating or not, I highly recommend that you book a time to speak with a sleep specialist." Officer Jones says.
I'm so embarrassed and so, so tired. A huge part of me almost wishes that I was going crazy, because that way it would be one less trauma for me to process.
I let out a sniffle and nod my head. My arms are folded in together as Officer Jones walks me back to the hotel.
"I'm really sorry if I've wasted your time." I tell her and I mean it.
"You didn't waste our time at all. It's our job to help. Even if all of this was a result of a hallucination, it doesn't make your experience any less real for you. Don't feel the need to apologize."
I just nod, finding comfort in her words.
"Keep a phone nearby you tomorrow. The forensics team will be out first thing, so we'll let you know what they find."
"I will, thank you."
"Have a good night, Miss Adams."
"You too."
I scan the lock on my door, before walking into the room I have remained in for the last three days. Clothes are spilling out of my bag and there are take out containers still on my table from yesterday.
I just don't have the energy to clean it up yet. I don't have the energy to do anything but sleep at this point.
Slipping off my shoes, I don't bother changing as I fall straight into bed in my hoodie and a pair of black leggings.
With my body still on top of the white comforter, I rest my head on my pillow, feeling my mind drift off to sleep for the first time in days.
- End of Chapter 2 -
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