violet skies / michael clifford

panic attacks and nightmares

25. breathe, jessa

"Princess," Michael hums in his sleep, lips pressing at my shoulder.

His trembling body has been cuddled close to mine from the moment Calum helped me get him to bed. Michael was still affected at that point, and getting him down wasn't easy. Still, he's convinced me that everything will be fine in the morning. I believed him. As far as my dad knows, I'm staying at Ashton's.

"Mikey," I whisper, removing his travelling hands from reaching any further than my stomach. When they find my hips, I give him a light push. "Please stop."

"Mmm."

Michael's body presses harder against me, trapping me between the wall and his tall frame. I try to turn around, but his arms are keeping me right there. I want to get out; I have to get out.

I don't think I've ever been scared of him before. I know he's asleep. But he still reeks of weed, and the way he's pushed up against me is triggering my claustrophobia.

Tears start flowing down the pillowcase. I can feel my body shaking and my breathing getting caught in my chest as I fight to get out. Ever since that night, I've been reliving the same nightmare over and over. But this time, it feels real. As if I'm actually twelve again, fighting human monsters.

The weed smell lingers like a bad memory.

I give his chest another shove, harder this time. "Stop. Please, no."

The bed on the other side of the room creaks violently. Calum must have woken up. "Guys?"

"Help me," I cry. Louder than before.

When Calum's warm hand comes to take mine, guiding me out of the nightmare I've been held in, I'm relieved. He walks me to the kitchen, my legs still shaking. I need his support to stay upright.

"Panic attack or a nightmare?" Calum asks, calmly. He seems to knows the signs well. I guess living with Michael, he's had to learn.

"Both. I think," I sigh, sitting myself down on one of the chairs. "Thanks for helping me."

Calum leans forward. "Breathe in."

I do as he says, sucking in a deep breath. My eyes are locked with his.

"Hold it," he instructs, "now breathe out slowly. You okay?"

"I felt like he was forcing himself on me."

"He's sleeping," Calum says, but there is no judgement in his statement. I like that. Although we both know I've been imagining things, Calum doesn't make me feel stupid.

"I know."

"You're scared. Why?"

"I guess I saw a different side of him tonight. I don't know, it scared me. Maybe I'm being stupid."

"You're not stupid. Michael can be sometimes, though. He's impulsive. Like that time he picked you up to come watch the sunrise. It was such a spur of the moment thing. He drove to your house before even texting you. He acts first and thinks later, sometimes leading to poor decisions. That's why he usually gets anxious at night, when he actually has time to think things through."

"You sound like a shrink."

"I don't have my degree just yet," Calum smiles, but the sad look in his brown eyes gives him away. "We've been through many nightly panic attacks together. I've learned from it, I guess."

"Oh."

There is a little zip bag on the table, making the air in the room colder as two pairs of eyes end up staring at it. It's the elephant in the room, but neither Calum nor me brings it up.

And then, I grab it. Swiftly, I stuff it into the pocket of the hoodie I'm wearing. I can feel it burning against my hand, as if to warn me that it's dangerous. Will Michael be mad that I've taken it from him? It's not like I'm going to use it.

"Not sure that's a good idea," Calum says, "Mikey wouldn't want you carrying that around."

"I'm getting rid of it."

"Why?"

I take a moment, wondering if I should tell him. Then I decide that Calum is a good listener. He wouldn't judge me.

"My parents had gone away for the weekend. My brother was having a party. He'd bribed me, saying that if I didn't say anything, he'd buy me this necklace with a pendant that chimed. I was so scared, the whole night. I still remember it so clearly. That smell. The weed. I guess I was triggered by it tonight..."

Calum just stays silent, as if he understands that the story isn't finished there.

So I take a deep breath, and continue telling him about the tonight that changed everything, "I was in my room, trying to sleep. This guy just burst through the door. He held me down and I- and I couldn't fight back," I say, trying not to break down in front of him, "I relive that moment when I close my eyes at night. But tonight, the weed... that smell made it all so real. It's like it was happening all over again. Please don't think I'm crazy."

"You're not crazy. You're strong and brave."

"Thanks Calum," I say. And I think that's the first time in a while I've smiled and meant it.

In the morning, I decide not to go to school. Calum offered me his bed, but I feel like that would be weird. Instead, I've been falling in and out of sleep on their couch.

Calum offers me coffee, when Michael's morning voice interrupts him, "She doesn't like coffee, Cal."

We both turn to find the dark haired boy stood there, deep purple circles under his eyes and greeting us with a yawn.

"How, are you feeling?"

"Okay," Michael replies. He's looking around for something. When he can't seem to locate whatever he is searching for, his brows knit into a deep frown.

I move to sit up straighter on the couch, pushing my hands deep into the pockets of the hoodie. I know just why Michael is scanning the room, and what object he is looking to find.

Holding my silence, I wonder if he will mention it at all. He doesn't. The confused, tired boy just sits down, sighing deeply. His face is captured in a frown still.

"I'm gonna head out," Calum says, standing up. "By the way, there's a big cliff like a ten minute drive from here. Just in case you wanna throw things and see them fall into nothingness."

In a way, I wish he would stay. But I just give him a smile, letting Calum know that I get the hint. "Thanks."

"What was that about?" Michael seems very confused at our exchange of words. To be fair, it is probably too early for him to register any kind of information. Especially after his rough day yesterday.

"Nothing," I tell him, shaking my head at the boy who's slept right through my nightmarish early morning hours.

-
calpal tho what a hero

mikey is more useless than jon snow he knows n o t h i n g

anyway, how are you all today? good? ready to rock?

i'm having some toast in celebration of sgfg because tastes good feels good

also wrote this instead of doing my assignment for tomorrow haha

love me

~lauren