Anxiety Attack

Chapter 9

Finley’s P.O.V

Eli looked at me accusingly as he waved my notebook around. I gulped, having no story to back up my words.

This isn’t fair, I thought desperately. Out of all of the people in the world to find my notebook, it has to be Eli, the only one to yell at me about it.

This was true, after all. My father would just hand it back to me silently, my mother would cry that I’d been lying to her, and Luke would simply ask me if I wanted to talk. At least with my family, I could lie. Eli, I had a feeling, would know if I was being truthful or not.

“Well?” Eli said belligerently.

“I-I,” I stammered, trying to think of an excuse. “I d-d-d-don’t-”

“Don’t what, Finley?” Eli demanded.

I shrunk back in fear. I hated being around anyone angry, as it made me feel like I was somehow going to get hurt.

Eli raised his eyebrows accusingly, shaking my notebook in my face.

I could literally feel myself panicking, my eyes darting from my window to my door, debating which one would provide the faster escape. My breathing quickened and I could  feel the inevitable run instinct kicking in, telling me to get out of here, run away and get away from whatever was making my body seize up and my lungs stop working. 

Tears came to my eyes and I wailed, “I think I’m really, really depressed!” before launching myself at Eli, now sobbing almost hysterically.

Eli dropped my notebook and patted my back slowly, looking terrified. I guess he was good with people who were having anxiety attacks, not people who cry into his shoulder.

“There there,” he said awkwardly. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“No i-it’s not!” I cried. “I’m n-not ‘fine!’ I always s-say I’m fine, b-b-but I’m not!”

“Yeah,” Eli murmured, rubbing my back. “Whenever someone says they’re fine, they’re usually lying straight through their teeth.”

I sniffled, still crying, why, I’m not exactly sure, I think all of my emotions finally just came pouring out and Eli just happened to be nearby. Eli simply kept patting my back slowly, unsure of his actions, but helping me nonetheless.

“Shh,” Eli muttered. “Please stop crying,” he added, but I don’t think I was supposed to hear that part.

I swallowed hard and slowly removed myself from Eli’s arms, hiccupping and wiping my eyes. “Sorry for just breaking down,” I whispered.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Eli said gently. “You seemed to need a good cry.” It was silent for a second until he spoke. “Do you want to tell me about your anxiety?”

I shot him a wary glance, not willing to tell him that I was lying to almost my whole family. I wasn’t even willing to voice the words anxiety disorder out loud. I don’t have a disorder. I just get anxiety attacks sometimes.

Eli, noticing my expression, rephrased his question. “Not now, but did you always have anxiety?”

I shook my head. “N-No. When I was younger, I was f-fine. But then I started s-school, and my attacks started.”

“Why?” Eli asked curiously, sitting down on my bed.

“I d-don’t know,” I admitted. “I t-think it was because I didn’t k-know anyone at my school, and t-that terrified me. P-Plus, Luke liked to tease me a l-lot.”