Chapter Thirteen
Millie
Idon’t know why I ran. All I know is I had this overwhelming urge to flee as soon as Rowan asked me to tell him what happened when I was a child.
It’s like my entire body revolted at the idea of showing him the thing that’s consumed my life since the day I was born. It’s not like I haven’t talked about it before.I have, lots of times. I’ve explained my condition to countless people, granted most of those people were in the medical field. Maybe that’s what the problem was.
I’m alsoused toexplaining it to people that know or at least have somesemblanceof understanding about my condition. Rowanwon’t, at least I assume he won’t and that somehow seems scarier.
So I ran away like a scared little chicken as soon as I saw the opening with his friend asking to talk to him. Now, I’m regretting my hasty decision but I’m already halfway home and it would be super weird to turn around and go back, right?Like, oh hey! Sorry I was super awkward and just ran away when you asked me a question. You wanttotalk about it now?
Nope, not doing that. I’ll call or text him as soon as I get home and hopefully I can smooth over my rude behavior.
The light in front of me turns yellow and I slow the car down before coming toacomplete stop just as it turns red. I see a car fly by at an alarming speed and the sight causes the same tingling the back of my neck, the sensation crawls up and down my spine, just like in the ice cream shop with my mother and after hearing that voice in my room but what follows is a reaction I’ve never experienced before. Even with all the hospital stays, the uncertainty of my illness and having open heart surgery I’ve never felt mywhatever consumes my body next.
It almost feels like anout-of-bodyexperience.
My throat tightens and my pulse quickens as I try to pull a breath into my lungs like I normally would. My eyes water as I try to stay focused on the red beacon of thestop lightahead of me to keep me anchored to the present, the here and now.
It feels like my body is being pulled into two different directions. But I soon lose sight of the red light as my vision blurs and I become more desperate to feel air fill the cavities in my lungs and experience that sweet relief from this burning that’s consuming my entire chest. But no matter how hard I try I can’t pull in enough air.
My chest starts to feel heavy and tight, the scar that runs the entire length of my sternum burns like it’s on fire, right along with my lungs. My eyes widen in panic when I reach up and my skin feels hot to the touch.
What is happening? What’s wrong with me?
I close my eyes and move my fingers up my throat to find my pulse. Hoping like hell the soothingthump, thump, thumphelps settle whatever is gripping my body right now.
I work to steady my breathing, pulling in deeper breaths every third inhale. I count my pulse, one quickened beat at a time until the feel of my blood humming beneath my skin finally starts to calm the chaos in my body.
A bead of sweat rolls down my back and I feel my muscles tighten in anticipation of another attack. I reach up, placing my palm flat across the jagged scar that’s still warm to the touch and my heart that beats erratically right underneath it.
I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.I chant over and over.
Beep. BEEP. Beep.
I jump at the noise, the sound of the car honking behind me zaps me from the trance that seems to have consumed my entire being. I blink several times, coming back to the here and now before slowly moving into the intersection.
My hand shakes where I’m gripping the steering wheel. I look over my shoulder and quickly pull my car over to the shoulder of the road, unwilling to drive in this condition.
As soon as I’m safely pulled over my muscles sag in exhaustion.
I feel moisture gather in the corner of my eyes and I immediately blink several times to clear them, but it doesn’t work. It’s like I don’t have any control over it as one tear falls, then the next. Before I know what’s happening tears are running down my cheeks in a heavy flow. Sorrow fills my chest, replacing thetightnessand burning I felt just moments before.
I’m terrified another attack is coming on so I try to control my tears by trying to force them to stop butI can’t. The sorrow in my chest turns into something more foreign. The strange feeling settles over my mind and consciousness.
I reach up and touch the moisture still tracking down my cheeksand as I pull my hand away I stare at the wetness coating the pad of my fingers.
They don’t feel like my tears.
I shake the thought away. Of course, they’re your tears, Millie. You’re the one crying! But even as I try to convince myself they are, I can’t shake the feeling that they don’t belong to me.
“Hi, honey.” Mom looks up from the book she’s reading at the kitchen island as soon as I walk through the garage door. “You’re back late. How was the game?”
Darn it.I was hoping she was going to be asleep by the time I got home. I drop my head ever so slightly so she can’t see my red, puffy eyes from crying relentlessly in the car.
I sat there on the shoulder of the road for what felt like hours but was more like thirty minutes just trying to get my tears and the heaviness in my chest under control before I felt safe enough to drive home.
I still don’t understand what that was or what’s happening to me, and I can’t tell my mom about it because she’ll freak out and drag me to the doctor first thing in the morning. I know that whatever the hell that was,it wasn’t normal,but I don’t want to be poked and prodded like a freaking science experiment either. And that’s exactly what will happen if I tell her.
