unidentified | billie eilish fanfiction

TWENTY - EIGHT: bad

violet

think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts i can't fall apart in front of aly again i can't fall apart in front of aly again not after yesterday not after what i did yesterday, i can't fall apart again.

i paced from my widow to my front door from my window to my front door from my window to my front door over and over and over and over again.

aaliyah stared at me pacing, not a word escaped her mouth, she just watched me freak, i whisper to myself bullshit i'll never believe in hopes that i'll calm down. a panic attack is creeping up, i feel it and i resent it. i will not allow it to appear, i am in control of my body. my body is not in control of me.

"violet."

i stopped at the sound of her voice calling me. i was suppressing any emotions that were associated with sadness in, including my tears. by just looking at my best friend, everything i was trying so hard to trap in, bolted right out.

i slid down the wall, my knees were up to my chest, hands caged onto the floor, head at forty-five degree. chest tight, i couldn't breathe, i knew it was happening again, i lost the battle, i was cold but i was hot, sweating, i felt like i was dying and i wished i was dead.

"hey, hey." aaliyah rushed to get on her knees beside me. "look at me." she demanded. "look at me." she repeated more harshly, i blinked once allowing the tears in my eyes to escape and i finally looked at her. "you're having a panic attack." she told me. "try to match my breathing patterns, okay?" she put my hand on her chest. "trying to breathe in and out with me." she voice was calmer now that she was breathing steadily for me. "you got this." she assured me as i started feeling better, but wasn't quite there. "good." she said when she realized i succeeded in matching our breathing patterns.

"she hates me." i breathed out.

"she doesn't. she loves you." aly shook her head.

"she hates me." i insisted, resting my head on her chest.

"is this your first time?" she asked.

"what?"

"is it your first time having a panic attack?"

"no." i replied.

"violet we need to get you some help." she suggested.

"how'd you know how to deal with me?" i asked.

"i used to get them a while back." she answered.

"oh."

"will you let me get you some help?" she asked.

"i don't need help." i stood up. "i perfectly fine, fully functional human being here." i wiped the tears from my face.

"violet, you are not o—" she began to say but i interrupted. "aaliyah, i have told you time and time again that i don't believe in therapy, i don't believe in support groups i don't believe in 'getting better' because for me, there is no getting better. i am broken beyond repair, you don't fix a shattered mirror, you buy a new one because if you try to you'll end up with a bunch of cuts and in the end, if you keep this going you'll end up hurt too, not only me. you'll end up hurt too."

"im just trying to—" she began.

"i know." i assured her. "you're a good friend, that's why you should replace the mirror."

"i'll see you at work okay?" she sighed.

"yeah."

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