Scared that something was going to happen to Thomas, scared that I wouldn’t get to him in time, scared that I would have to watch the light leave those beautiful blue eyes.
I dig my nails into the flesh of my thighs, begging my body to stop, to feel something other than this fear. Nothing is working, nothing is pulling me from this haze. I stand on shaky legs and run to the sink, turning the water on hot and scrubbing at my arms and legs, doing anything to get the blood from my skin.
The water is so hot it burns, but it reminds me I’m alive. I’m here.
When I’m clean, I look up into the small mirror above the sink, and see my face. The small amount of mascara I had on is smeared all over my red splotchy cheeks, and I splash the water onto my face, hissing at the sting of the burn.
I can’t get myself under control. I can’t regulate right now, and this has to be one of the worst panic attacks I’ve had in years, maybe ever. The last one I had this bad was the night my parents died, and my Grandma had to have the hospital give me medication.
I sink back down onto the ground. I need to calm down. I can’t go to the hospital right now, can’t bring that attention to myself. That’s too much, then everyone will ask me whathappened, more so than they already will, and I’ll have to tell them I’m a nervous wreck.
I pinch my skin, dig my fingernails in again, do anything I can to help me calm down.
“Hannah?” Thomas’s voice is a familiar sensation between heavy thumps of my racing heart in my ears. A hard knock on the door is a feeble attempt at pulling me from the haze, but I’m flung right back into it as soon as the knocks are done. My name is called again, maybe more than once, before I hear the words, “I’m coming in.”
Hands grip around my arms, pulling them free from my scalp. I didn’t even realize I’d started digging my nails into my scalp until now.
“Hannah, breathe. You’re safe, I’ve got you,” Thomas’s voice says, but it sounds like he’s underwater. “What can I do to help you?”
I shake my head, unable to get words out.
Thomas wraps his large arms around me, pulling me into his lap so I’m straddling him, and he squeezes. Tight. So tightly that it almost hurts to breathe, but it helps. God, does it help.
After a long minute, my breathing slows, and the whooshing in my ears fades until it’s only the steady thumping of my heart, and Thomas’s low voice rumbling against my chest.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you. Keep breathing, there you go, baby. You’re doing it. Keep breathing.” His words are so soothing, and soon, I’m following his patterned breathing as he inhales and exhales slowly.
My head is pressed into his neck, and my tears slow.
“Thank you,” I croak, after long minutes of no more tears.
Thomas nods slowly. “It helped me too.”
I start to extricate myself from the tangle of limbs we are in, and Thomas holds me closer. “Just another minute. I’m sorry I didn’t come in sooner.”
I shrug. “It’s okay.”
“Does that happen often?” he questions.
“Not anymore, no. Usually, I can control it before it gets that bad, but tonight…”
“Tonight is out of the ordinary.”
“Yeah, you could say so,” I say, letting myself laugh softly. “Are you okay?”
I feel his head moving. “Yes. Now I am, knowing that you’re safe, and in my arms.”
There’s a knock on the door. “Tommy, are you guys okay in there? Do you need EMS?”
“No,” Thomas calls out. “We’ll be out in a minute. Just calming down.”
“Could everyone hear me?” I say, cringing.
“No. I was the only one out there until Chief came by to grab us, and then I went in. Chief could have heard, but he knows it’s been a rough night.”
I nod into his chest. “We should get up.” I slowly stand, shaking out my aching, tired limbs. After my panic attacks, my body always feels wrung out. My extremities tingle, and I feel like I’ve run a marathon, something you wouldnevercatch me doing.
Thomas stands and opens the door. Chief is leaning against the wall, a somber look on his face. “You two doing okay?”
