3 3 . s e e k i n g c o m f o r t

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My heart is banging against my entire ribcage, it feels like at any given moment, it will combust in the confinement of its safety. My hands push people aside as I make it through the crowd to where I'm hoping the group still is. My eyes have long started pouring out tears and this time I don't control them. The death grip I have on my phone can potentially destroy the device as a whole but still, I care not of that.

Zama is in hospital. Just last week she messaged when I'd be home, now she's in the hospital. It has to be drugs — it can only be drugs and that terrifies me. Almost as if everything comes crashing down again. I have to be there for her. I have to!

Panic settles in when the group isn't where they once where; my eyes quickly dart round to try and identify at least one person from the group, but it's almost like they've all disappeared. My hands lift to my head and I start crying some more. What am I going to do?

I quickly look at my phone, unlock it and try calling Nate. He has a car, he can take me home, can't he? Will he? We just broke up and he said he'd give me space but this? This is urgent.

He doesn't pick up, and neither does David. I sob louder, yet it's swallowed by the sound of music blasting through the speakers. Just as I decide to turn and head upstairs to check if maybe they are there, I pump into the last person I want to see tonight, especially at a time like this.

"What were you—"

"Where's Nate?" I immediately say, taking a desperate step closer to him. "Please! I need Nate! Or David? Where are they, Avery!"

"They are drunk out of their—"

"Just tell me where they are." I sob louder.

"What's gong on, Zeze?" He holds me by my shoulders as though to root me from running away. "Why are you crying?"

"My sister! Zama, she... she overdosed." My shoulders sag. "I can't leave her alone. I have to be there for her! I need—"

"I'll take you." It's not even a suggestion. It's a command. It's final; he takes hold of my wrist and drags me — even though I willingly follow him in desperation — towards the entrance of this house, and soon enough to his car parked not too far.

I pull my wrist out of his hand and literally sprint for the passenger door, attempting to open it but it's locked. I pull on the handle repeatedly before shouting.

"Open the door! We don't have time!"

"Zeze, hey. Zeze!" I can hear his voice, but the banging of my organ almost mutes out any reasonable sound. Soon enough he pulls me by my shoulder and turns me around before technically banging me against the car.

"Avery, you're wasting time! We need to go—"

"Zinhle!" With such authority and demand in his tone of voice, he grips my shoulders tightly to grab my attention. It works, for the most part, because I shrink a bit with wet cheeks and heavy breathing. "Listen to me. You need to calm down. I understand the situation, but panicking when you're miles away will do you nothing. Calm down. We're going to get there, you're going to see her."

I sniff, eyes pressing closed at the memory of Michaela lying lifeless on her bedroom floor. "I can't lose her, Avery. Not again. She's so stupid! Why should she do drugs! Why?"

"It's not your fault. It's not. She chose to do it, okay?"

"Zama? Or Michaela?" I look at him with a blurry vision.

He doesn't respond instantly. He blinks slowly, almost as if processing my question, before sighing softly. "She's going to be fine. Just don't panic and I'll get us there soon, okay?"

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