Jefferson Lake (MBBF Spin-Off)

Chap. 42

*trigger warning*

Burden.

Good for nothing.

Failure.

Baggage.

Can't even attempt suicide right.

I woke up with a start, unable to catch my breath.

My entire face was hot, beads of sweat pouring down my face.

I pushed myself up off of my bed, gripping my aching chest with one hand as I stumbled out of my room.

I needed some cold water to splash on my face.

The voices were still shouting at me inside, and I tried to grit my teeth, to ignore them as I made my way down the hallway.

But I paused as I heard the shower.

Someone was already in there.

Fuck.

I leaned against the wall out in the hallway, hyperventilating as more of the nightmare I'd just endured came back to me.

Good for nothing.

I hated waking up to a panic attack.

I needed some cold water to splash on my face, something to help take the edge off.

I made my way downstairs, knowing that if I managed to wake Parker up like this he'd pretty much have a panic attack himself.

But I was going to end up crumpled up on the floor if I didn't get a handle on this.

Burden. Baggage. Failure.

I knocked twice on the Master bedroom door, but no one answered.

Fuck it.

I let myself inside, but it was empty.

Parker was probably downstairs on the treadmill, where he spent most of his mornings, but Emily could very well be in the bathroom.

There was only one way to find out.

I knocked twice on the double doors that led into the Master bathroom, but there was no answer.

So I let myself inside.

That was empty too.

I shut the doors behind me, turning on the sink and splashing some cold water on my face, working on breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.

I braced my hands on the counter, letting my head dip low as I came down from my lowkey panic attack.

Can't even attempt suicide right.

I wished I had something to shut the voices off in my head that were practically screaming at me, the words burned inside my mind.

Good for nothing.

I used a hand towel to pat my face dry, my breathing coming out in short spurts.

Burden. Baggage. Failure.

My eyes dragged up to glance at my reflection in the mirror in front of me.

I looked like I'd just crawled out of Hell. My face was pale, my eyes bloodshot. I had deep, black circles underneath them, which prominently stood out against my paled skin.

I ran my fingers through my hair, closing my eyes for a few moments.

Good for nothing.

I reopened them, my eyes falling on Emily's toothbrush.