lost and found; lrh

eight

My shoulders felt heavy as I slumped down in my desk; gazing out the window at that little birds nest that always seemed more interesting than actual school work. I watched as three little Silvereyes chirped at the air surrounding them, almost as if they were calling for something, or sending out warning signals.

When I was in the first grade I did a report on Silvereyes, and whenever they sensed danger they would make a noise different from normal in hopes of either scaring off the predator or getting the attention of birds around them. It's their signal for help. 

I studied their actions, listening to the muffled chirps through the window. They began to get louder and more frantic, which caught my attention. I sat up in my chair, leaning closer to the window. All at once, without any warning, a large animal I had never seen before jumped into the nest, grabbing the small birds. 

I gasped loudly. I could hear the class turn to me as I continued to watch. My hand went up to my mouth as the birds disapeared one by one into the animals mouth. "No!" I whispered. I stood up, "No!" 

"Bailey, sit down." My teacher commanded. I looked over at her; her face was stern as her wrinkles formed around the frown plastered on her face. 

"B-but the birds!" I pleaded, a single tear slipping from my eye. 

She made her way over to me, looking out the window. "Bailey," she breathed, looking me in the eyes. "There are no birds out there." 

At first I looked at her like she was mentally insane; that was until I looked out the window again and realized she was right. The birds were tucked out of sight in their nest, perfectly fine and unharmed. I felt my heart race and my breathing increase. 

"I think you should grab your stuff and head to lunch early." She whispered, grabbing my bag off the ground and handing it to me. I took it from her, glancing at the class room as they all stared at me like I was some mental case. I'm sure I look like one after that. 

I pushed past her and headed for the door, hearing the class erupt into a pit of murmers. Once I got in the hallway I walked. I walked as far away from the classroom as I could get until I got to my locker, then I fell to the floor and lost it. 

It seemed so real. The panic was so evident in my mind, I felt it must've been real. How did I misinterpret that? How did I lose the ability to tell the difference between actuality and something my mind created?

As soon as the bell rang for lunch I pushed my head into my knees. The last thing I need is for the whole school to think I'm weak. They already think I'm a sociopath. Which is worse? Sociopath, or weak and pathetic orphan?

I felt everyone walk past me heading towards the lunch room, but I didn't move. I didn't want to. I didn't want to do anything. 

"Bailey?" The warming voice I craved at every moment sounded near me. I kept my head burried in my knees, not knowing whether this was real or not. 

"Stop." I whimpered. "Please stop." 

I felt hands on me. It was real. I put my head up, coming face to face with the the warming blue eyes. 

"Are you crying?" Luke asked, pulling me into his chest. The embrace made me feel safe. It made me feel like whatever was haunting me would never be able to lay a finger on me. I want to stay like this forever. "What's wrong?" 

"I don't know." I sniffled, wiping a tear from my cheek. He pulled me in tighter, running a hand soothingly up and down my back. 

"Bay please stop crying. I hate when you cry." He whispered. I tucked my head into the crook of his neck, trying to stop myself from crying. 

"I'm sorry..." 

He pulled me away, so he could look me in the eyes. "Don't be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry about." 

I kept eye contact for as long as I could before the anxiety began to creep back into me. I fell back into his arms. "Please don't let me go." I let out a shaky breath. 

"I'll never let you go. I promi-" 

"There you guys are!" Michael shouted. I could tell he wasn't too far away from us. I looked up from Luke's neck just as he got close to us. "What's wrong Bee?" He asked, worry practically dripping off of his face.

I shook my head, "Nothing." Luke released me. I looked at him woefully. But you promised...

Michael leaned down, grabbing my hand as he pulled me up to my feet. I avoided eye contact. 

"C'mon Bee, you can talk to me. We're in this together, remember?" He grabbed my chin, making me look at him. His eyes were full of compassion, making the weight on my shoulders get heavier and heavier. Before I knew it he was leaning in, his eyes closing on the way down. 

His lips were soft and warm against mine, and for a moment I forgot everything. That is until he pulled away and the boy in front of me still wasn't Luke. 

Luke coughed from behind me, making us both look at him. "When did this happen?" He asked. I could tell he wasn't happy about it, which made the weight get worse. It felt like my back was curving further and further every second. 

Michael intertwined our hands. "Over the weekend." The smile and the happiness reflected in his voice. 

Luke looked at him blankly, before his gaze went to me. I isntantly wanted to throw up. "Awesome." He replied. His hands clenched into fists and in one swift moment he bashed it into my locker door. 

"Luke, what the fuck?!" Michael shouted, shoving me behind him. Luke ignored him, and stormed off down the hallway. 

"Oh my god," I breathed, feeling the anxiety trickle into me as if it was connected to an IV. 

"What is his deal?" He asked, his gaze still in the direction Luke left. 

I attempted to reply, but my breathing just came out in wheezes and I fell to my knees. "I can't breathe," I choked. 

Michael got down with me, blurting out sentences left and right. "Bailey you're okay." "What's going on?" "Answer me, Bee!" "What's wrong?!" 

I was having an anxiety attack. Plain and simple. In black and white. I got these very often after my mom died, but my dad was always there to calm me down. Just his mere presence made me feel okay again. My asthma played a big role in these attacks as well, making the inability to breath increase the anxiety and panic. It was a terrible combination. But right now I needed Luke. This isn't going to stop unless I get Luke. 

"Bailey!" Michael screamed in my face. I looked at him one last time before completely losing consciousness. 

The nostalgia I felt when I awoke wasn't warming, nor was it comforting. The blandly painted walls, and the only sound being the heart monitor made me feel anxious. 

I sat up, but instantly fell back down as a pain shot through my arm. I looked in the direction of the pain, seeing the IV tucked into my inner arm. 

"Hey, hey, hey." Liz said, now at the side of my bed. I looked up at her in complete dismay. 

"What am I doing here? Why am I here?" I cried out as she tried settling me back into bed. 

"You passed out at school today, Bailey. You had an asthma attack." 

The memories from the hallway with Michael and Luke began infusing my mind. I calmed down. 

"Where's Luke?" I asked. 

She looked down at me sympathetically, bringing her hand up to my face to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. "He's at home with Andrew. He wanted to come here with me, but I insisted he stay there. We'll be going home soon." She assured me. 

I shook my head. My mind went back to Luke. He said he'd never let me go, and I believe him when he says that. But I can't trust myself, especially not with Michael in the picture. I'm lost. I'm wandering endlessly across the universe trying to find any source of light, but all I get is darkness. 

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