𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 ✓

Chapter I

~12 years later~

  I tired to breathe.

   I couldn't.
  
 Air wasn't coming in or out like it was supposed to. I hadn't had an asthma attack in a few months. I couldn't even remember why I was having one at that moment. 

  Within seconds, my father was in my room, on the bed next to me where I had sat. My asthma pump in his hand. He brought it to my mouth.

"Breathe, Elle, breathe."  He said. His calmness radiated on o me. It became easier to do what he said, as each second of breathing cleared my airways even more. I gasped and coughed, panting.

   Dad rubbed my back as I did.

"You're okay, you're okay. " He whispered.

Finally, I was able to speak. 

"Thanks, dad."

He smilled. But the smile lasted for a second, before he spoke again. 

"You have to keep your pump close to you. If I'm not here and this happens again...,"
He trails off, because we both know what could happen.
  
    "Okay, dad. I'll will." I assured him as he stood up.

"Good." He responded, with one last shaky smile, before speaking again.

"I hope you remembered it's shower day. I refilled the water tank with a little more, so it should last longer this time. Go get ready, I'll start the shower for you."

We could only bathed once or maybe week to conserve water. We did the same with food. Thursday was usually bath day, and we ate on Tuesdays and Wednesday's and Fridays.

    Dad left the room.

I undressed, wrapping my towel around my body.

   I pushed open the door of my bedroom, walking down the hall towards the bathroom.

Dad stood there, his hand under the shower head, testing the water.
 
  He flicked some of the water towards me.

I cringed. It was freezing.

"Warm enough?"  He laughed.

It was a joke of ours. The water was never warm.

He slid the shower curtain open, then stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I hung my towel on the rack and stepped into the shower. After washing my hair and body, I grabbed some cleanser.

I giggled to myself.

  It was funny how we had regular things like facial cleansing products but no hot water.

  I stepped out of the shower, drying myself off with the towel.

  I left the bathroom, walking back to my room. 

   There, I moisturize my skin, with some cocoa butter. It was crazy how ashy I could get in a matter of seconds.

   I pulled on some clothes then sat at my dresser. I plugged in my hairdryer and blew my hair out. 

   Done with drying, I put some castor oil in my hair. I hated the smell but it was what my mom used to use, so I never changed my routine.

   I parted my hair down the middle and braided each section into a row.

   My hair wasn't long. It didn't even reach my shoulders. But at least it was healthy.

   I finally finished, my head throbbing from how tightly I braided. I grabbed my scarf , tying it securely around my head.

   As I lay in my bed, my stomach growled.
 Sometimes I wished we could be normal like we did when mom was alive.

  We used to go out then, too. I barely remembered it though. I was only three at the time.

  But since mom passed, everything was different.

   Sometimes I liked to dream that mom a queen somewhere and had left her kingdom. And when she died the world couldn't work without her. So that made me a princess.

   I smiled as I began to drift asleep.

 When I woke up, I could hear the birds outside. My boarded window didn't let me see what was really out there. 

Sitting up I ran a hand over my face. I felt my head. That stupid scarf had fallen of again.

   I sat up searching the sheets for it.

Then suddenly,  I heard a loud noise.  It was  dark, so I turned on the lamp that sat on my nightstand. I walked out of my room towards the direction of the sound.

    Soon enough,  I heard a pained groan coming from dad's room.  I quickly rushed there.

     I stood there looking down at the motionless body of my father.  He lay there, on the floor, his eyes delirious but searching. In his hand he clutched a piece of paper. 

  I rushed to his side.

I burst into tears when I saw his eyes. Eyes like the ones I wished I didn't remember. 

They were just like mom's when she died. Open, but clouded. Looking at you, but still only managing to stare into nothingness.

     But I couldn't let him die.

 I ran downstairs into the kitchen searching through the cabinets, looking for something to help him.

But how was I supposed to help him if I didn't know what was wrong.

   I ran out of the kitchen into the living room. As I ran, something caught my eye.

   The front door. It was barricaded with wooden planks as it had has always been.

    Someone could be out there. Someone who could help.

   With a newfound determination and strength, I ripped the planks off.

   I pulled the door open, tripping through. I ran. I didn't know where, but I would stop when I found someone.

  Suddenly I was falling. I had tripped over a tree stump.

   I fell face first into the dirt. When I tried to get up, I was already wheezing. My lungs felt like they were about to burst.

   My power trip was over, and weakness took over. My vision blurred. The last thing I saw were two glowing eyes.