Cure

Chapter Eleven

[ugh listen to the song, it's cute]

Gabrielle's POV

It's been two weeks since recording day with Lana.

And every single day since then, I've had a panic attack.  I can't seem to figure it out.

She hasn't been with me during one of my moments since that day.  It's almost like every time she leaves, that's when it happens.

I try my best to do what she said;  Hold my breath and think of something else.

But every time I try, I never succeed, and I'm just so confused as to why it never works.
I just want to know what to do to make it stop because honestly, I can't deal with it much longer.

I finally went out and got a vehicle the other day, so that's good.  Lana insisted on tagging along.  And the paparazzi went absolutely nuts.

They kept on and on, asking me who I was but Lana told me that I didn't have to explain myself to them, so I didn't.

I picked out a Toyota Camry because I knew that they were pretty reliable vehicles.  I could afford a newer model with my recent paycheck, so I decided to get the best one that they had on the lot.

Lana loves it.  She says that it's much different from her car but she loves the new car smell and how clean it is.

I lay on my mattress on the floor and stair at the window to my left.  The sun shines in on my face, and I squint my eyes.  Grabbing my phone beside me, I look at the time.

11:00

I see the date on my phone as well.

Saturday, June 1st

I sit up in my bed and rub my eyes, trying to fully wake myself up. My phone rings loudly, making me jump, and I laugh at myself.

"Hello?"

"Hey." Lana says quietly on the other end.

"What's wrong?" I immediately ask her.

"What makes you think something is wrong?" She says, trying to defend herself.

"I can just tell, Lana."  I say bluntly.

We've gotten a lot closer over these past two weeks.  Maybe just over time? I honestly don't know.

She sighs and I wait for a response.

"I just had a bad night."  She says almost too quietly.

I lay back down on the bed and lay my arm over my forehead.

"Are you okay?" I ask with concern in my voice.

"No, actually.  I've had them every single night since the time you stayed.  It's like it's harder to get through them now.  It wasn't this bad before."  I can hear that she has been crying.

My heart hurts at her words.

"Why haven't you told me that you've had them every night?"  I ask, worried.

"I just didn't want to bother you."  is all she says.

"Well, I've had a panic attack every single day since-" I stop. "If it makes you feel any better." I quickly say.

"What? I'm always with you."  She says, confused.

"It always happens right when you leave." 

"Well, why don't you call me?"  She asks me this time.

"I don't want to bother you." I give her the same answer.