Why couldn’t I breathe?
Why was it so hard to breathe?
I shook my head from side to side and tried to get loose.
Why couldn’t I breathe?
I could feel myself start to panic, which was making breathing even more difficult.
“Help me.” I could hear myself saying it over and over. And despite feeling like I was yelling it, I could barely hear myself.
“Patrick… Patrick, wake up.”
I was being jostled, and I bolted upright. I opened my eyes and saw Hollis. Realizing I was having a nightmare, I opened my mouth to make sure I could still take a deep breath. I felt around the bed for my Blueberry Worry Wart, and when I had him in my hands, I pushed myself out of bed. I couldn’t be in bed right now. I couldn’t lie down. Everything was too fresh in my head.
Sebastian and Eli’s laughter rang in my ears as if they were actually right here beside me. I swear I could feel their hands on me. I could feel the wet cloth over my face. I could feel myself suffocating.
Fuck! I couldn’t breathe again!
Hollis put his hands on my upper arms and held me still. God, his hands felt so good. I felt like if I passed out, he’d be able to keep me upright. My stomach dropped as I stood in his grip.
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked.
Nothing would come out of my mouth. At least not how I hoped.
“I can’t lie in bed. I feel them.” I took another deep breath, but the more I thought about it, the more difficult it was to breathe. I swear I could feel my breath sucking the wet fabric into my mouth. “I can feel them on me. I can’t breathe,” I tried to explain.
I could picture them in my head.
I could feel them.
But I couldn’t explain to Hollis what I was feeling.
“Okay, try to relax.”
“No. I can’t! I can’t breathe!” I cried. Literally cried. I pulled on the neckline of my t-shirt to release the restriction I felt there. “I can’t breathe!” I cried again.
“Patrick, come on and relax for me,” Hollis encouraged as he tightened his grip on my arms.
I started to feel weak, as if I might pass out. I stopped clawing at my neckline and closed my eyes for a moment just as I started seeing the blotchy spots. Had it not been for Hollis’ strong grip on my arms, I would have passed out and fallen.
“Whoa! Hey! Patrick!”
I opened my eyes, and the fear of not being able to breathe seized me again. But what was worse now, I had an audience. While I tried to stop crying and gasping for air, Morgan stepped into my room and was talking to Hollis. I forced myself to talk when Hollis told Morgan to get their dad.
“No. Please no,” I begged.
Charles and Kristin had been so good to me, and I couldn’t create more problems for them. Otherwise, they might make me go to the state for foster care. That fear just piled right on top of my issue of breathing. Before Morgan left the room, Charles and Kristin appeared.
“I came into his room when I heard him. He was making muffled noises like he was yelling. Or trying to yell,” Hollis explained.
I tried to control my breathing, but I couldn’t. It was erratic, choppy, and I sounded like a mess. Tears continued to fall from my eyes. I brought a hand to my eyes and pressed Blueberry against one eye to absorb the tears. I grasped the neckline of my t-shirt and pulled it downward. I was pathetic. I was a disruption.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled as Charles wrapped his arm around me and pulled me against him. Kristin set her hands on my back in a comforting gesture. I know it was stupid, but being hugged like this was making me feel better. I felt safe. I was safe with them.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Patrick. You had a very vivid dream that resulted in a panic or anxiety attack. Try to clear your mind of everything but something pleasant. Let’s try to get your breathing under control.”
I leaned my head against Charles and closed my eyes. I thought of Hollis and playing cards until we fall asleep in his room. I also thought of Hollis and me watching his fuzzy porn channel and jacking off. I must have been doing a little better because Charles commented on it.
