Traveling Through Darkness

Why can't I breathe? What's happening? The bag of chips I was holding falls from my trembling hands onto my bedroom floor. I gasp in deep breaths of air. Am I losing my mind? Minutes creep by like hours. Finally, my back falls hitting my soft carpet. I grip the floor and a few tears leave my eyes. What's happening? Is that normal? I don't think that's normal...i'll just keep this to- “Hello there, having trouble are we?” My eyes widen and my back slowly pulls off the floor.

“W-who are you?”

The stranger jumps off my dresser and smiles softly at me. “Your anxiety!”

My eyes widened. I stand up quickly, a bit too quickly and I fall back down. “My what?!”

He sighed looking a little annoyed. “Your anxiety, Abella.”

I backed up slightly. “I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know who you are and I definitely don't have anxiety.” I stopped walking and stood my ground.

“Ah yes, the stage of denial.” He ran his fingers through his short black unkempt hair.

A small gasp left my lips. Who is this guy… “I am not in denial!”

He nodded, looking as if he wanted to burst out laughing at me. “Sure honey, ok, then what was that?” He jabbed his index finger at the ground.

“A glitch in the matrix, a malfunction? God I don't know!”

This time he let a laugh out and smirked softly. He then nodded and disappeared. “What the [Insert curse word of your choice].” I sat back down on the floor and felt my palm to my forehead. “Just a fever, yep that's all it is…” Denial… A voice in my head said with a chuckle. I screamed internally and laid back on the ground trying to get comfortable but failing miserably.

Chapter 2.

About a week has passed and I haven't breathed a word about what happened. Like oh yea I have these attacks that happen and I think i'm losing my mind! Oh boy! Is that the next flight to the local mental asylum like yea thanks but no. So far I've had about one a day. They're not all as bad as the one I had the first time but still terrifying.

When they happen at school I run to the nearest bathroom and lock myself in it. I think the teachers are getting worried. I'll make something up. Bringggg. The last hour's bell rings, bringing me out of my thoughts. I get the annual “Have a good summer break!” and so on from my friends. I say goodbye and start on my walk home.

A boy appears in front of me and I stop walking, I recognize him as my anxiety. “What could you possibly want?” I start walking again and he walks besides me.

“Aren't you worried?” He looks around skeptically.

“About what?” I rub my temples, annoyed.

“Walking home? By yourself? You could get kidnapped. What if you get run over? What if someone tries to talk to you?” He gets louder with each worry.

I stopped walking and my breathing quickened. “Why are you doing this? Literally nothing is happening.” I started shaking and fell on the grass. What the [Curse word of your choice].

My anxiety started pacing. “God, I'm so sorry!”

“Sorry…” Deep breath. “Isn't gonna…” Deep breath. “Fix anything…”

A few minutes pass and my breathing slows. You may be wondering how no one saw me. Yea me too what the [Curse word of your choice] do people just not live here? I pull my back off the ground. My anxiety has stopped pacing and is sitting on the floor messing with his earrings. I let out an exaggerated cough to get his attention. He looks up at me. “Yes?” I glare and shake my head. “Nothing,” I grab my backpack and search for something to eat. “Where is it?” I mutter under my breath. My hand lands on a plastic zip lock bag. “Ah here!” I smile and grab the bag. Anxiety gives me a strange look. I shove a pretzel in my mouth. “What?” He shrugs slightly then blows a fluffy strand of hair out of his face. Rolling my eyes I take another pretzel. “I really need to get home.” My anxiety nods. “Oh hush you're the one who made me late.”

I unlock the door and step inside sheepishly. “I'm home…!” Mom steps out of the kitchen holding a bowl. “Where have you been?” She stirs the bowl and gives me a look. Think, think… “Studying!” I blurt out.

Mom raises an eyebrow at me. “Oh?”

“Yep! With Mr…” I look around the room “Mr. Jones! I was having trouble with this math problem...but um no biggie.”

Her gaze softens and she nods. “You should have called me.”

“Sorry…”

She nods looking like she's done her part and can now calm down. “I'm making cookies!” She smiles. “Wanna help?”

“Sure! Let me just go put my bag up…” I ran upstairs without waiting for an answer. I shut the door and drop my bag to the floor then myself. Sighing I grab my water and take a sip. “Hey!” I jump and look up. “Sorry didn't mean to scare you.” Great, my anxiety has come to join the party. He jumps up on my dresser. “You should tell her ya know?” He takes a sip of a monster. Where did he get that? “She deserves to know.”

I consider this then sigh. “I don't know…” I stop to think. “What's your name anyways?”

He looks up from reading the ingredients on the can. “Oh...It's um Timor.”

“Cool-” I'm cut off by my mom downstairs.

“You coming hun?”

“One sec!” I stand up grabbing the bag of pretzels. “Ok bye Timor!”

I run into the kitchen. “Ok im here.” She eyes my pretzels. I hold the bag up. “Want some.” She smiles, shakes her head and turns back around. I set the bag on the counter and walked over. Taking a peek into the bowl I see that this batch is not mixed all the way yet. “How many batches are you making?”

She continues to mix the dough and smiles. “A few, for the church.”

I nod. “Oh,” I hoist myself onto the counter. “Why?”

“A bunch of the older ladies are having a get together and I was asked to bring cookies.”

“Wait, you're not that old though…”

She smirks softly. “You're right, I'm only 22.”

A small laugh escapes my lips. “Ok then.”

Chapter 3.

“Ugh where is it?!” I threw a shirt across the room.

“Calm down, relax.” He told me sarcastically.

I continued to search through piles of clothes. “Yea why don't we relax, we'll turn on the radio.”

He jumped off the dresser. “No you should be worried anything could happen.” He started pacing around the room.

“Would you stop freaking me out?” I throw a shirt at him and bend back over to continue my search for the perfect shirt. “My friend invited me to a concert and you are not messing this up for me!”

“But so much could go wrong! It's gonna be so loud.” He covered his ears. “What if you have a panic attack?”

I stopped searching and stood up.

“In front of everyone.” He continued, dragging out the words for emphasis.

I stared at the wall, thinking about everything that could go wrong.. I felt a warm liquid run down my face. “[Curse word of your choice] what is your problem?” I wiped the tears quickly before he could see.

“It's not me who has the problem, it's you who's gonna have the problem if you go.”

I silently stared at the wall and felt my breathing waver. Stupid stupid stupid.

“Shh it's ok…” Timor told me to try to sound soothing but failing miserably.

I looked up at him with a broken expression, and it didn't help that there were puddles leaking out of my eyes. “I hate you…” I muttered mostly to myself. His expression changed and he began to silently cry. “I'm sorry…” I dropped myself onto the floor so I wouldn't fall later. Gripping the carpet I tried to breathe. I'm losing my mind aren't I? I heard the click of my door and my body stiffened. I slowly turned my head. “Abella?-” She saw me and rushed over. “Honey what's wrong?” She had a terrified expression on her face. I gasped in heavy breaths of air but to no avail. I couldn't speak. She set her hand on my shoulder and moved my dark black hair out of my tear stained face. “Izzys here?” I gripped the carpet and my back fell to the floor. This feeling is so familiar it's like being crushed by a thousand anvils all at once. Death? Maybe, I might die. It feels like it anyways.

Chapter 4.

Where am I? I lift my head. “Ow,” I grip my head. Looking around I realize I'm in a hospital. Ew my face feels gross...did mom seriously bring me to a hospital? I look around for someone. “Hello?” My voice comes out hoarse. The door clicks open and a nurse walks in. “Oh you're awake!” I nod subtly. “Mhm…” She stares at me for a couple of seconds, looks down at a clipboard. “So do you know what happened? Your mom tried to give us a brief explanation but,” She stopped and looked down at her paper again. “It wasn't much.” She gave me a close lipped smile and I stared at her. What the [Curse word of your choice] I gotta get out of here. “Panic attack.” I tell her, it's a short answer but pretty much sums everything up. Her expression changed to...what is that...pitty maybe?

Before she has time to answer I blurt out. “I'm not crazy!”

She nods “I know sweetheart.”

I give her a nod and she shows me to a bathroom, after I tell her I really gotta go.

No wonder I look crazy, there's eyeliner running down my face. I splash some water on my face and look back into the mirror. A short scream escapes my lips but is stifled by a quick understanding. “Don't you think you've done enough damage?” I lean back down to splash more water on my face.

He leans into the wall and sighs softly. “I'm really sorry...I guess I just can't help myself.”

“Apparently,” I scoff.

He goes on to explain how sorry he is and blah blah blah. I'm not really listening but whatever.

“I'm so so so so so s-”

“I get it oh my god!” I shout and he nods looking a little taken aback.

I dry my face on a scratchy paper towel and walk out of the door without another word. People these days. I roll my eyes. I walk back into the room and my mom is standing there talking to a doctor. She nervously bites her lip and nods here and there. I cough dramatically and she looks up. “Abella!” She runs over and hugs me. She asks me if I'm ok, If i'm hungry, if I'm thirsty, but does not give me time to answer anything. “I'm fine mom.” I pull away from the hug and she reluctantly lets go. The doctor turns to me and smiles. “We’re going to put you on Citalopram.” She sees my puzzled expression and continues. “It should help with your anxiety.” I nod in response and she turns back to my mom.

“That should help with her anxiety and or panic attacks.” She had a professional tone but it was sweet.

“What's the difference?”

The doctor looked like she was about to say something but I cut her off without thinking. “Panic attacks happen without a trigger, anxiety attacks happen when the person is triggered.”

She gave me a surprised look and I looked away sheepishly. “I uh looked things up…”

The doctor nodded and gestured for me. “She's right.”

I twisted my long black hair around my finger awkwardly.

Chapter 5.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Mom had been on me the whole ride home. The medicine wouldn't be ready to pick up for a couple more hours so we headed home.

“Why not Abella?” I shrugged slightly and stared out of the window.

“Are you going to shut down now?”

As if I was in a loop I shrugged again without thinking.

“Come on Abella…”

It was silent for a few minutes while I waited to find the right words. I cleared my throat quietly then started. “Guess I was just scared…”

I hear her sigh softly. “But you know you can tell me anything right?”

I nodded subtly. Can you though? What if she ships you off to the funny farm? Shut up Timor. I thought sternly. “I'll be fine.” I nodded to reassure her.

She didn't say anything then suddenly said “The doctor gave me the name of a therapist and you’re going to go see her, her name is Amund Jones.”

“Sure…” I nodded not really knowing what to say.

She pulled into the driveway and parked. “Are you hungry?”

I slowly pulled my body out of the car. I shook my head subtly. “Not really.”

We stepped into the house and I headed towards my room. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” I muttered back. Opening the door I walked slowly over to my bed and plopped into it. Closing my eyes I tried to fall asleep. Sleeping is much better than all the thoughts of my brain trying to push their way out. Still can't believe she brought me to the hospital….She probably thinks you're crazy...Stupid just go to bed...its so loud in my mind just shut up. Music? Yes, that could work. I forced my hand to move towards my phone and headphones. Shoving them into my ears I clicked play on my playlist. “Lifes alright in devil town...yeah right no one gonna catch us now…” I sang softly under my breath, then my mind went blank.

Chapter 6.

“Abella...Abella?” I felt a small prodding finger on my arm and my eyes opened. It was my mom. “I went and picked up your medicine.” She sat herself on my bed and I moved my feet a bit. She held up a bottle and read through it. “Two a day...one in the morning and one at night.” Ok? She smiled at me. “It's 7 so i'll give you one at 10.” She stood up.

“Just leave them in here, I'll get it later.” I waved her off and set my head back down on the pillow.

She looked concerned but set the bottle down on my bedside table and walked to the door. “Dinners ready if you want any.”

“I'm good, thanks.” My voice came out aggravated and annoyed, my eyes widened. I don't ever talk to her like that.

She looked taken aback but left the room, clicking the door shut softly.

What the heck is wrong with me? I rubbed my temples and sighed softly. I'll apologize later. My eyes wandered and landed on the bottle of Citalopram. Hmm how many would it take to...What the [Insert curse word of your choice]. What am I thinking? I shake my head and stand up shakily. Hmm, I'm tired. I sat on the floor and stared at the wall.

“Hello there.”

I looked up. How long had I been sitting there? I nodded at Timor slightly.

“You look down...Care to tell?” He sat next to me criss-cross.

I shrugged softly. “I don’t know, I think I'm just tired.”

He nodded at me. “Ok…well do you wanna-”

“Would you please just leave me alone!” I snapped at him.

He nodded. “Sure…” Then like that Timor disappeared.

A shaky breath escaped my lips and I ran my fingers through my jet black hair. “What is wrong with me?” My eyes got misty and warm tears streamed down my face. I gripped my hair and opened my mouth, wanting to scream but nothing came out but an uneven breath. “I just need to sleep, that's probably it.” I laid my back on the floor, being too tired to wipe the sticky tears from my face. “Hmmm…” I breathed quietly and fell back asleep.

Chapter 7.

11:09pm hmm I slept a while. I stand up and stretch my arms up above my head. “Oh yea…” I walk over to the Citalopram and read the bottle over. I popped two in my mouth. An extra one couldn't hurt. I sit myself on my bed and pull my laptop over to me.

Click click tap click tap click click.

“Hm…what to watch….Do I even wanna watch somethi-”

“Mmm mmmm mm.” I hear a humming sound. It's like someones trying to talk?

I look up confused. I know I'm not a Schiz… “Timor?” Timor is standing there but he can't talk; there's something over his mouth. “What are you doing?” He looks at me annoyed and points at his mouth, signaling to me that he can't speak. “Well isn't that funny.” I laugh. He flips me the bird and disappears. I stick my tongue out at where he used to stand and look back to my computer. “I don't really feel like watching anything.” I say outloud to myself. “Why am I talking to myself? I don't know. Ok then.” I quietly giggle and lay down on my pillow, wrapping myself in my blanket. I stared at my computer screen mindlessly.

I wonder why he couldn't talk? I search around the room as if there's something in the room that can answer my question. Surprisingly enough my eyes land on the Citalopram and I nod my head in realization.

Chapter 8.

Not to my surprise but annoyingly enough I didn't sleep that night. “Abella lets go, it's time.” I groan in defeat.

“[Insert curse word of your choice]” I whisper yell. Ok lets go yay therapist appointment! I walk down the stairs moving slowly. Each step is as heavy as the next, like my feet are stuck in maple syrup. “Amund Jones.” I scoffed to myself. “What a stupid name….”

“Well here we are.” My mom opens her door and steps out. Doing the same I rub my eyes and follow her inside.

When we get inside there's a tall brunette girl who can't be older than 20 standing there waiting for us. “Abella?” She looks at me for reassurance. I nod and give her my best smile. “That's me.”

“Great! I've already talked to your mom about everything.” She nodded at my mom and smiled.

“Ok hun love you.” She smiled at me and left the room. Making it just me and Amund. She clapped her hands together once and smiled. “Shall we.” I nodded and followed her to a smaller section of her office. “Have a seat.” I did so and sat on her couch, putting my hands in my hoodie pockets and wrapping my arms around my waist. “You look tired, get much sleep?”

“No, I didn't sleep.” I held in a yawn.

“Hm.” She nodded and wrote something down in a notebook. “Here I'm gonna ask you some questions and I just need your honest answer, Ok?”

“Ok.”

“Loss of appetite?”

I nodded , thinking about how I hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours and hadn't wanted to eat.

She writes something down. She asked me a question then wrote something down. This went on for about 15 minutes until she sighed and said, “You've scored quite high on this depression test.”

“Meaning...I passed?” Some delirium might've hit me or I swear I'm just losing my mind when she nodded at me and told me, “You have depression.”

I stood up quickly and the room got dizzy. “No!” I looked around the room for...an exit? “You're lying.”

“No, sadly I'm not.” She spoke softly as if she were talking to a five year old who didn't wanna take a nap. “Come on, sit back down, Abella.”

I shook my head. “No please no I just wanna go home.” I looked at her.

“Hey it's ok, Abella.”

My breathing quickened and my body decided for me that I needed to sit down. I gripped the couch.

“Beathe, Abella.” She told me soothingly.

I took in deep breaths of air and laid back into the couch.

A few minutes passed and my breathing had slowed. “Are you okay Abella?”

No, obviously not. I literally just had a panic attack in front of you and you’re gonna ask “If im okay?” bruh. I nodded then itched my tear stained face. “Did you not take your medicine today?”

Oh yea that. “I must’ve forgotten.”

She nodded and smiled at me. She grabs her bag next to her and pulls out a bottle of medicine. “Your mom gave this to me, she figured that you would forget.”

She handed me the bottle of Citalopram. I popped one and was about to grab another when I remembered who was in the room. “Do you want this back or…?” I asked her awkwardly.

“Just set it beside you hun.” She smiled sweetly once I had done so and continued. “Now about your depression, I think it's stemming from your anxiety.”

Chapter 9.

Mom picked me up an hour later and we started our journey home. “So depression huh?”

I nodded. “Yep guess so.” I stared out my window, not wanting her to see the tears pushing at my eyes.

“Yea I have that too.” She told me calmly and my eyes lit up.

“Really? Why didn't you tell me?”

“I dont know.” She shrugged, keeping her eyes on the road. “Guess it never came up.”

Rolling my eyes I sighed softly. “Ok then.”

When we got home I rushed up to my room and put the medicine on my bedside table. It had been a long day and it was only 12pm. I haven't seen Timor in a while? Where could he be? Is it because of the medine? I sat on my bed feeling light headed. “Hm…” I felt my forehead and sighed. “Food? Bleh.” I made a gross face at the picture of food in my mind. I laid my head on my pillow and turned my music on. I could feel my mind drifting off to a calm state. I was almost asleep when- “Hey there!” My head lifted from the pillow quickly.

“How are you talking to me? I took the medicine, right?” I took a quick glance at the bottle of medicine.

“It wont work all the time.” he shrugged then looked back at me. “Plus I'm bored.”

“Sounds like a personal problem.” yawning, I sat back down not wanting to deal with Timor anymore.

“You're not fun.” He pouted and slouched over where he was sitting on the dresser.

“Me and you have a very different idea of fun.” I flipped him off and rolled over putting my headphones in to drown him out.

I layed there for what felt like hours but I didn't sleep. Staring at the wall my thoughts flooded over me. “Slowly losing my mind.” I told no one in particular. My voice light and sings-songy.

Chapter 10.

“Come on just a little longer.” Timor pleaded to me. He had been telling me to just stay in bed for the past few days. Truth be told I was and am tired but I knew deep down that I NEEDED to get up. But...I don't want to.

I held up three fingers to signal three more minutes until I would get up.

Three minutes passed. Then three more. Then next thing I knew I had been laying there all day and it was dark out. “[Curse word of your choice]” I I yelled annoyed.

“Keep it down, I'm trying to sleep here.” Timor yelled at me quietly.

“Oh [Curse word of your choice] off!” I stood up and sat on the floor. My carpet soft and fuzzy against my legs. Minutes creep by like hours as I stare at the ceiling mindlessly. Just thinking. I shouldn't be left alone with my thoughts. Suicide. What?! What am I thinking? But maybe...I run my fingers through my long black hair. I hate summer break.

Chapter 11.

“You have to fight your depression,” Amund told me but I wasn’t really listening. My mind was off somewhere else, not listening to her but to the restless sea that was my mind. I wish I was in my bed. Warm and soft bed. Hiding under the covers like a child hiding from ‘The monster under the bed’. Aren't I poetic? A small smile landed on my lips then faded quickly when I was pulled out of my thoughts by Amunds voice. “Abella?”

My eyes land on her. “Yes?”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Uh huh.” I nod.

She can see right through me. I've never been a very good liar but [Curse word of your choice]. She shakes her head and crosses her legs one over the other. “What's on your mind?”

“Nothing much, you?” Another lie. One after another. It's like I'm hiding something...am I?

“Abella.” She shakes her head and smiles. “I am your therapist, can you tell me anything you know?”

Sure so I can get shipped off to an asylum. “I know Amund.”

“So what's on your mind then?”

Ummmm. “Poetry.” I blurt out. Poetry? Where the [Curse word of your choice] did I get poetry???

“Poetry?” She forces her smile away.

“Yep, I write poetry.”

“Do you now?”

I nod my head. Another lie. Lie after lie to hide what's really happening. To hide what I'm really feeling. Do I even know what I'm really feeling? My head is spinning and I don't know what to do next.

The hour is over and we leave. I get through the hour with small nods, a ‘Yep that's right.’ here and there. Food? We pull into the driveway and I crawl back up to my hole. Hand on the door nod about entering when- “Abella?” What the [Curse word of your choice] could she possibly want? “What?” I try to keep my voice calm but the annoyance wants to seep out. No answer. Of course she wouldn't answer. Why would she answer? A loud sigh escapes my lips and I try again. “What?!” My voice is a little louder this time. Still nothing.

I stomp down the stairs. My eyes land on my mom. “What?” I ask firmly. She turns to me. “Oh hey hun.” She smiles.

“You called me?”

She claps her hands together once. “Oh yes!”

“Well what do you need?” The irritability seeping out.

“I want you to stay down here.” She tells me, her voice sweet.

“Why?”

“Because I don't want you up in your cave all the time.” She gestures to my room.

“Well that's where I wanna be.” I snap at her.

I can see that she's surprised, even if she tries to hide it. I take a step back feeling not in control of myself. Don't back down. Timors voice rings in my head and my body moves on its own. Stepping back into my original spot my soft gaze turns into a stare. Maybe I really should just be in my room. I take a step back and turn my body towards the door. “I'm going out.” I announce and at this she puts her gaze back on me. “To the park.” I tell her and walk out the door.

Why did I act like that? God im so stupid and so mean. Aaaa. I walk under a tree and sit there. The warmth of the sun hitting my face feels nice.

“Ma’am?...Ma’am?” My head jerks up in surprise. There's...a cop? I move my body backwards in surprise. “Yes?” I look around and its pitch black. Did I fall asleep? “Your mom must be worried sick. You should get home.” I stand up quickly.

“Yes of course thank you...officer.” I take off running down the street. I see my house in sight and my running turns into a walk. I gasp in breaths of air. I walk through the door calmly and composed.

She rushes over and hugs me, my body turns stiff and I try to get away from her grasp. She holds me at arms length and smiles. “I'm so glad you're safe. I called you but you didn't answer. Where were you?”

I finally get out of her grasp and turn around. “Park. I fell asleep.” and with those words I left up the stairs. I'm so tired. “Hey hun.” I keep walking up the stairs, ignoring Timor. “Well that's not very nice.”

“Please leave me alone.”

“Aw why?”

My body moves on my own and I slam Timor into the wall behind him. “LEAVE ME ALONE! Just go away! I hate you!”

He glares at me. “Feisty are we?”

I dig my nails into his shoulders and grit my teeth. “No. I want you to leave. I am ok. I am strong and I can do anything.”

He seems to grow smaller.

“I don't need to be worried all the time. I don't need to shut down. I can go into social situations without having a panic attack.”

“N-no.” His voice comes out smaller and he looks smaller.

“I am going to be ok! Everything will be fine and I dont always need to be stressing out about everything.”

He’s as small as a child now and his eyes look scared. I stare down at him. “I am stronger than my anxiety.” I draw out those words and smile proudly. Then he vanishes...gone. I step back from the wall. I'll always be here. Timor’s voice tells me. Yes but you don't control me.

“I'm so excited! I've- We’ve been waiting for this for so long to see this band live!” I say happily.

“I know right! It's gonna be so cool!” My friend jumps around excitedly.

I take a deep breath and step into the huge building full of yelling people. My anxiety does not control me.