Panic Attack

I stare at the wall, wiping left over blood from my mouth. Ever since Thomas started taking those anxiety pills, I've been coughing up blood, not that I mind. It just shows how much my plan is working.

I also wipe away blood from my wrists and pull down the sleeves of my In This Moment sweatshirt. I head downstairs, also wiping tears from my face. I had another panic attack because I started throwing up blood over and over again. Just cause I want to die doesn't mean that I'm not afraid of death. Believe me, I am.

I sit down on the couch, Logan typing away on the computer and Patton watching "Frozen". I stare up at the screen, not really paying attention much. My anxiety rises when I realize that I may get sick down here. What if they stopped Thomas from taking anymore pills? My breath quickens and my heart rate speeds up. I'm on the verge of another panic attack.

My hands automatically reach up in to my hair and grasp it hard, trying to stop myself from shaking. Obviously, it's no use. My whole body shakes like an earthquake and my lungs are dying from lack of oxygen. I can't breath. I can't fucking breath.

I notice Roman walk in the room and look down at me.  "Virgil, are you okay?" He walks over towards me but I put my head between my knees, trying to ignore him, to make him go away.

Instead, he rubs my back and asks, "What's wrong?"

Then Logan jumps in. "What's going on?" I feel his eyes on me as he says, "He's having a panic attack."

Someone grabs me and holds me in their arms. Who the fuck is holding me? I look up, shocked to see Roman. I bury my head in his chest, the vibrations of my body speeding up. Why does he care? He hates me. He wants me to die. He told me so. They all want me to die. I'm useless to them. I'm a worthless, no-god human being. They obviously don't want me here. I'm probably not wanted anywhere. No one likes me. No one loves me. I'm worthless. So fucking worthless.

With these raging thoughts in my head, I start to shake even more and even more tears flood my face, making me drown in my own tears. I clutch on to Roman's red sash, trying to stop my hands from shaking. They all think I'm weak now. Weaker than they thought before. Now they'll all hate me. Well, hate me more than they did before.

Roman's arms around me tighten. He whispers sweet nothings in my ears. "It's okay. Everything's okay. Just calm down. Shhhh. Calm down. It's all okay. Everything is okay." He rubs small circles on my back while he says this.

I feel my stomach churn and in that moment, I throw up blood all over Princey's shirt. My eyes turn wide. Oh fuck. He's going to kill me. He's going to fucking kill me!

I try to push away from him, to escape his anger, but he holds me close to him. I cringe as my own disgusting blood touches and smears on to my hoodie. Princey pulls me back a little bit from him and gives me a look of concern. "Are you sick?"

I shake my head and try to get out of his grasp. "No. I'm fine."

"You obviously are not fine." He sinks down and then stands up, both of us appearing in his room, me still in his arms. He sets me down on his bed and kneels in front of me, cupping my cheeks in his hands, making my eyes meet his. "Tell me what's wrong."

I look down at the floor. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."

He sighs. "I just saw you spit up blood and you expect me to believe that you're fine?"

I look up at him. He has a point there. "I know why I've been sick." Because of you convincing Thomas to take anxiety pills, but if I told him that, then my plan wouldn't work.

"Then what has been causing this befallen state?"

I sigh in frustration. I don't want to tell him the truth, but he won't let me leave this room until I do.

"When did this start?"

"A week ago."

"On what day?"

"The day you told me I would be better off dead."

Sadness and regret enters his eyes. "Has it- is it because Thomas has been taking anxiety pills? Is that why you've been sick? Are they slowly killing you?"

I clench my hands into fists. "Why would you care anyways?"

"Because I care about you."

I snort. "No you don't. No one does." I stand up and say, "Thanks for helping." I start to walk away, but two arms wrap around me and pull me close.

"No, you're not going anywhere. You're staying here until you get better. And you would not be better off dead because then I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

And then he drags me back to bed and forces me to go to sleep with me in his arms.

I'll never be able to admit this out loud...

But I think I'm in love with him.