(Book 1 of 3 in the Weakness Series)
All Kira Collins wanted was for her senior year to run as smoothly as possible to make up for her previous years problems. That's all good in theory until she gets involved in a fight she wasn't meant to.
By def...
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Everything at the moment is louder than ever yet nothing seems to register. I can hear talking, machines beeping, feet scuffing while the smell of cleaner is making me light headed. I feel a hand on my shoulder and with a blink everything seems to be in slow motion.
"Hey," When I open my eyes I see Taylor crouched in front of me with her arms on my knees "We've come to take you home."
"I can't go home."
My voice is husky, throat raw from how much I've cried. I'm exhausted because I haven't left the emergency room unless it's to see dad during visiting hours. He's currently being prepped for a second surgery and I was kicked out because I was freaking out.
It was either that or I would be sedated.
"You need to get some sleep it's been nearly twelve hours," I glance to Blair who's rubbing my back and a pang of hurt stabs itself in my chest. "At least come have a shower, change your clothes, get some food then we'll come back."
"I can't leave him."
"Kira he's-"
"All I have left," I whisper, dropping my head back down to my hands that are still tinted red with his blood. "If I lose him I won't have any more family, I'm not eighteen yet which means I'll be shoved into some foster care system."
"That won't happen-"
"Yes it will!" I raise my voice, brushing Blair's hands from me. "You don't know what's going to happen. He almost bled out in front of me, I watched another parent-"
My lungs start to collapse on me, air coming in at a pace that hitches my breathe. They burn just as much as my throat does. I hunch over struggling for breathe as I hold my stomach, Taylor moves to her feet to haul me up with Blair.
"It's going to be okay."
One of them whispers the mantra as if it'll make a difference. I barely get into the corridor before my knees buckle. My palms press to the floor, grounding me as I let my nails press dig into my skin. I heave, struggling for breathe when I notice the standard shoes a nurse wears infront of me.
My ears ring at a high pitched frequency, blocking out the dialogue exchanged. Breathe. It burns everywhere to the point of hyperventilation and my vision being blurred by tears. A sob rips from my throat as I curl inwards like a ball to get away from the hands touching me.
Each touch feels like a needle jabbing me or a searing pain, I can't be touched during a panic attack. I let out a scream, swinging my arms before I fall back flat against a wall. My fingers thread through my hair and I can faintly see shoes moving past, some slowing to watch my meltdown.
"She's hasn't had a panic attack in eight months." I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head at the sound of Rhys' voice.
