Gas Mask ※ A Peterick AU

05| Mother

"Please don't hurt her." I whispered, trying not to break down as the man talked about my mother. "But she hurt you, caused you to harm yourself and cry. She deserves the same." He said, his voice stern and cold. "She's been through enough, please just leave her alone." I begged, the tears begging to stream down my face. Just the thought of anyone or anything bad just looking at my mother made me sick to my stomach.

The man sighed and shook his head, "sorry darling, this is the way things have to be." He said. I shook my head, this can't be happening, this isn't real. "Please no. No, no, no." I screamed, tears streaming down my face and falling down my chin. It felt like my lungs were getting smaller with every breath I took, I gasped for air, more tears falling which only made things worse.

I looked up at him with wide eyes, as if begging for him to help me. He stood there like a statue, watching me as I sat on the floor sobbing and gasping for air. I finally realized I was having a panic attack, something I haven't had for about eight years. I use to get them all the time when I was younger, I had severe social anxiety.

I almost never went to school because of it, only a few times a month because I couldn't handle being around so many people. And whenever my parents made me go I'd start freaking out; it would be hard to breath, my palms got sweaty, my stomach was in knots, and I couldn't speak. My mom used to help me through them.

She'd hug me into her chest and rock back and forth, quietly singing songs that her grandma had sung to her when she was a small child. She'd run her hand through my hair and tell me to just take deep breaths in through my nose, and out through my mouth. As I got older I managed to calm down by myself, and with the help of medication.

When I turned ten my parents decided to put me on medication, I think it was called Prozac or something like that. It made me sleepy, but after a few weeks of taking it it helped and made me less anxious when I was around crowds. I also started going to go see a psychologist twice a week, and eventually all of that helped me get back to school.

And since then I've been able to be around people, I'm actually quite outgoing now, I never thought this would happen but it did. But when my dad and sister died I had a flood of different problems, and I had nobody to help me. I still went to go see my psychologist, Isabelle, every once in a while. But I was to focused on my mom to help myself.

She's my entire world, the only person I actually have left in my life that I know will stay. Friends will come and go, but family will always be there for you. And my mom is the only one that's still here. My grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins all live in different states, some even in Canada. So my moms the only one I can rely on, which isn't the best.

You shouldn't do that, rely on someone. Because if anything ever happens to them you're all alone, with no idea what to do next. It's really makes me feel vulnerable and alone just thinking about the possibility of anything happening to her. I've spent so many years worrying about her, wondering how she's feeling at all times of the day to think about myself.

I don't even know how to properly deal with my own feelings, like right now. I've been off of my medication for three years now, and in really wishing I had it right now. I took deep breaths, desperately trying to calm myself, but then I thought of the situation I was in and everything went to shit. "D-don't hurt h-her, pl-please." I hiccuped

I closed my eyes and put my head in my hands, grabbing at my hair and fisting it. As sobs escaped me I felt a pair of hands cup my face. I opened my eyes to see the mans face, well his mask, a few inches away from me. "You need to calm down, everything is okay. Everything's going to be okay." He said, his voice laced with sympathy but at the same time it was still firm.

"No! Nothing i-is okay, n-nothing w-will ever be o-okay." I sobbed, pulling my head away from his grip. "D-don't you understand? You r-ruined everything. I-I was getting better and- and you messed it all up." I yelled, scooting away from him. He pulled his hands away and stood up, letting them drop to his sides. He let out a loud sigh and shook his head. "I can't help unless you let me." He said.

"The only way y-you can help is b-by letting me go." I sniffled, looking up at him. From all this crying I could feel a headache coming on. "You know I can't do that." He replied, crossing his arms. "Yes you can, I don't even know where I am right now." I breathed, shaking my head. "You know I'm not going to do that." He muttered, growing irritated, but I didn't care at the moment.

"Why not, I'm just some random person you picked up at a party. I already have problems to deal with, I don't need this shit." I screamed, standing up. I was breathing heavy now, but it seemed as all my panic had turned to pure rage. "You fucking dragged me here, for what?! Your own fucking amusement you selfish bastard.

"You're going to kill me and then what? You're just going to go pick up some other innocent person and do the same to them?! Ruin their life, and their family's, because you fucked up your own? You won't amount to anything, so you're ruining everyone else's chances of doing so because you're a failure." I yelled. If he was going to kill me I might as well tell him what I think of him.

"You just- you just fucking ruined my life." I growled. "My parents ruined my life, just like your mother ruined yours." He snapped, catching me off guard. "You've been so focused on what that bitch wants that you haven't payed attention to your own life, and look what it made you do." He grabbed my arm and pulled up the sleeve, all of my cuts on show. "This is all because of her, but you're just to fucking ignorant to understand that."

"You don't know shit," I seethed, glaring at his mask since I couldn't see his face. "I don't need to, you've been talking about her nonstop since I brought you here, everything you say revolves around what your mom thinks, what your mom feels, how it's going to affect your mom. Not you." I stared at him, half in shock and half in anger.

"That's what I thought." He spat before turning and walking up the stairs. He left the basement but left the lights on for me. I left out a sigh and slid down the wall, putting my head in my hands. He was right. He was fucking right, as much as I hate to admit it. But what's the point in thinking about myself, I don't matter anymore.

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Author's Note:

Short chapter because I wanted to hurry and write Pete's point of view :s