Panic Station

Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

I zoned out shortly after the stout woman announced that we were to be painting. Surely no harm could come from not listening after that, right? I mean, why did she spend half an hour telling everyone else something like rules? Who needs rules to paint? It's something everyone had done since 4.

Well, you can imagine my surprise and utter shock when I later found myself fighting for air in a thronging crowd of sweaty teenagers throwing colourful paint across the room. I disliked crowds of people more than 3 as it was, but when everyone was so tightly packed together, screaming, shouting and laughing, I could physically feel my heart beat quicken alarmingly. 

To be honest, it terrified me. 

Although I didn't know what was happening, I knew I wanted out. The only way I could achieve this was to somehow weave my way out and toward the door. How the hell did I find myself in the middle anyway? 

But as I went to take a step, I realised my legs were locked and wouldn't move, which alarmed me further. My eyes shot down to my feet, willing them to take a step, but to no avail. A ringing suddenly sounded in my ears, alerting me to the fact that whatever it was that was winding it's way to my brain, slowly suffocating me with every breath wasn't finished just yet. The ringing grew louder and my fear of not being able to move grew stronger with each passing second.

Dan.

I needed to find him! 

Glancing desperately back up, the first thing I saw was a large amount of red paint right before my eyes, leaving me no time to duck or put my hands up to defend myself against it. So I screwed my eyes closed just in time before it hit me square in the face. The slimy substance dripped pathetically onto my clothes and entwined in my fringe.

Up until that moment I had been void of paint, but it was as though that first impact had been the beginning of an attack, as suddenly I felt sticky liquid land on me from all around. It was as though everyone had just turned on me, despite the fact that I knew they hadn't, and it was just my luck that had caused it to happen. 

Pawing at my paint-covered eyes, I rubbed the red off and managed to blink them open. The ringing had become the only thing I could register, completely drowning out the screaming and laughing emanating from the crowd, and as I once again searched for Dan among the mass, I'd noticed that my fingers had begun to tingle and a tight constricting had twisted in my stomach and lungs; leaving me nauseous and short of breath, to the point where the room around me was spinning. 

Doing my best to ignore it, I blinked rapidly, fear creeping in my mind as the corner of my vision began to blurr sickeningly. 

Something was very wrong. 

My palms were slicked with sweat and with each second that dragged its heels, Dan was still nowhere to be seen, and my mouth had gone dry, causing my throat to tighten, thus leaving me to cough and choke on my own thoughts and pain. 

Suddenly, I saw a familiar head of vibrant blue, but it was gone as quickly as I'd seen it as my knees gave way and I collapsed to the floor, but not before one last handful of paint was tossed at my face, purple this time. 

No one noticed. No one turned around. No one even spared me a glance, as I crawled, tears pouring down my cheeks, throat and lungs ablaze, mind clouded with fear of the unknown. It felt like I was dying. I felt as though that was it, I was going to die in a throng of people I didn't even know. 

I probably looked a mess; ebony hair stuck up in all directions, face pasty and terrified, blue eyes wide and fearful, my entire body clad in splodges of different coloured paints. 

But no one noticed.

Gathering all the strength I could muster, I crawled the last length to the wall, out of the way right at the back of the room. I lent against it willing myself to calm down, for my breathing and heart rate to slow, the vice in my stomach to ease, for everything to just stop! 

But it didn't. 

Instead, I began to tremble and shake uncontrollably, eye sight completely blurred. But I did managed to make out one thing. The blue haired girl emerged from the crowd, calling my name in a concerned shriek, although it sounded distant. 

She reached my side, her face swimming into focus. Emma, dropped to her knees beside me and clutched my hand, her face contorted with worry, tears pricking even her eyes.

"Phil, what's wrong? What happened? Take some deep breathes." Although she still sounded distant, I could make out what she was saying as the ringing had quietened, and I desperately attempted to breathe deeply, to no avail. A new onslaught of tears poured helplessly down my red cheeks, tracing a path through the paint that had begun to dry. Shaking my head violently, I felt her sweep my damp fringe from my face. "Okay, um ... I need to get some help, you're in a bad shape." Suddenly I opened my eyes with the realisation that she was going to leave me alone to get help. She made to stand but I grabbed her wrist and implored her to stay by staring at her with wide, terrified eyes. 

Her's were just as scared, I noticed, as she dropped back down, and pulled my quivering form into a hug, rubbing circled on my back and rocking gently as I sobbed and shook uncontrollably in her arms. My heart beat and breathing still heavy and rapid. She pulled away after a few minutes.

"Phil, this isn't normal. I need to get som- No, don't protest, this is serious!" I watched helplessly as she pecked my cheek (the one that didn't have paint smeared across it) before standing and running back into the throng of people, who still hadn't noticed that anything was wrong. 

The minutes that she was gone and I was left alone felt like hours, days even. My heart was still kicking up a fuss, my lungs failed as lungs and my throat was still trying to choke the life out of me.

Eventually, I had to pull my knees up to my chest and clutch them in an attempt to control the trembling. It didn't work, so I looked back up and saw Emma re-emerge with a boy and another girl. The boy had brown wavy hair and was stupidly tall, while the girl had flowing golden curls and was relatively short in comparison.

Everything was a blurr and the ringing had risen its hideous and terrifying volume to one of a deafening quality. 

... and then inky darkness was the only thing I could see ...