The Hollows In Our Freedom | 'Hollows' Book Ⅲ

Chapter Twenty-One

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T h e H o l l o w s I n 
O U R F R E E D O M
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I have fought many beasts in my seventeen years of life—of that, just under half has been as a Guardian.

But never one like this.

My own beast.

I'd fought secrets, enemies and even authorities.

But never anything like this; it terrified me.

Completely alone, it was worse. I had to decide between running up to the main building of the hotel or running back to Jace. I was nearer to the main hotel.

It would've been cleverer to run to the main building of the hotel, but I was beginning to panic.

A panic attack, something I had fortunately not experienced since I was fourteen. I keep avoiding the darkness, and it's easier when you can control it yourself, and especially easier when you have a night light or a torch.

I had nothing.

I decided that I wanted something. Company.

In a panicked moment, I span and began to head where I had come from.

I needed Jace.

"Jace!" I yelled, feeling my lungs start to constrict. I furiously wiped at the tears that began to fall from my eyes as I stumbled around.

I was running now, but it horrified me; I couldn't see anything.

I continued to hurry along the corridor, gulping and rubbing my clammy hands against my coat.

But it was too hard. I felt like I was running endlessly, round and round in circles that never ended.

And then the panic really did set in. I halted, finding a wall to rest against. Then I started sobbing. I fell to the floor, my panic attack taking its full course.

I was heaving when I felt someone grab onto me. I screamed, feeling them shove something into my mouth. It felt like plastic. And then I felt as they tightened their grip, and a gust of fresh air burst in.

Then I realised what it was.

"Shh, Lexi, it's Jonah—I have your inhaler."

My inhaler.

It was always a difficulty pretending that my inhaler was for asthmatic purposes, and not because of my panic attacks. But I think that maybe there's something wrong with my lungs, anyway; I've seen many stories where people having panic attacks don't need asthma pumps. I just didn't need mine all the time—just when I throw myself off a brick wall, or dive into a very deep pond.

Yes, those are some stupid things I have done before.

My breathing relaxed, and I felt as my panic attack started to disappear. You're okay, Alexi. Fred isn't here. He can't hurt you. The darkness can't hurt you. You're okay.