You're Known //DNF\\

Illusions

((TW: Derealization and Panic Attack. Be safe, you're valid))
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"Hello," each syllable seeping with pure hatred.

What could George do? He was alone, his mind racing from the moment in the locker rooms back to what was now happening.

Why is this happening? Why me? Why when I'm already feeling undeserving?

His heartbeat was loud in his ears, the thumping of a drum in his head. His lungs failed to work properly, as he felt like he couldn't breathe yet he was hyperventilating. He felt belittled by his own body, he only expected the worse circumstances to happen.

He fell backwards, "No, no. Please no." He rushed backwards, Clarance following. Their surroundings were shadowed off, only them standing in the one hallway of books. George could no longer think for himself, except the word 'why' repeated constantly. He hit his back on the bookshelf, now cornered. Clarance inched forward.

When Clarance stood above him, his eyes matching the storm which was happening outside, George couldn't bare it. He brought his knees to his chest, got into a protective position, waiting for an impact.

Although, nothing came. George lifted his head, only to find he wasn't in the library. He wasn't even in the school. He took a second to look at his surroundings. He was in the field surrounded by pines. The wind brushed through his hair, hitting his face with heavy rain drops.

Why am I here? How am I here?

He was now leaning against a stump of a tree which looked to have been recently cut. The bark piercing through his skin, but he persisted on staying by it as he didn't know what was happening.

Suddenly, he is drawn away from his sightseeing as a voice creates goosebumps along his neck.

"George, turn around." It was Clarance again. It was as if the red headed boy was just teasing him at this point, now threatening to take away one of the most comforting places he's had. George's body fell back into panic, his head returning to its latter state.

George slowly turned around, being met with the same nasty blue eyes ((I love blue eyes, btw!)) which now haunted him. The red head stood tall behind the stump, his mouth carved with a fake, terrible, evil smile. "What's wrong George? Nervous?"

He only looked up at Clarance with pleading eyes, tears mixing with the cold wind. He was lost and confused. Panicked and scared. "I don't know what's happening. Please, don't hurt me." He mumbled, looking away and back at the field.

He heard footsteps behind him, getting closer and closer. He had given up. He didn't even move to protect himself, all he did was close his eyes and hold his breath in anticipation. Once again, preparing for the worst, a kick in a gut or hard words. Without sight, he relied on his ears. He heard the footsteps quicken, the wind growing louder yet more muffled.

"George! George!"

((TW over))

Then he heard his name being shouted in a worried tone. He was ever so confused, he didn't care to look up to see who was now grasping his shoulders, bringing him into a warm hug. He didn't care to respond to the comforting, mumbled words, from a familiar voice. He only cried silently into his knees. He felt so many, too many, emotions. He wanted them to all go away.

"George, please look at me. Please." The familiar voice spoke. George only ignored. He ignored and ignored. However, when he heard a quiet sob on his shoulder, he couldn't ignore. He was hurting the only person who cared, again.