I focus on the eraser bit. The left over piece; all that remains of the whole. The one that nobody wants; nobody that is but my mind. It wants it all, telling me lies, deceiving my eyes. I know it’s still, unmoving, tranquil. And yet my mind tells me otherwise. Staring, it overcomes me. It speaks: it’s moving, spinning around me. Spinning so fast only my mind can capture it. My eyes are too slow, it tells me. Nothing makes sense. Nobody believes me. But please listen, understand.
It’s coming in again, the tension. It’s suffocating me, stealing my breath away. My throat closes, tight, I'm unable to swallow. I focus on the things around me, watching them all. Watching them writing furiously. Trying to capture each piece of their thoughts; refusing to let them escape. Pencils are barely touching the page, just enough to leave faint marks of words escaping the realms.
It leads to …slow breaths again. Heavy ones.
No one seems to notice the changes. They’re all stuck inside their own thoughts, some even ashamed by them. So it is only me. Does that make me crazy? Why does it refuse to leave me? I try to relax. Forcing my shoulders to fall, to rest. Focus on the blank paper in front of you, I tell myself. Clear your mind, focus. Try to shape it into something real, something immobile. I doesn’t work, nothing does. The world is spinning out of control.
Vomit resurfaces.
This time worse, worse then last time; almost seeping through. But I force it to stay, I force myself to swallow. It stings my eyes, the truth seekers. Stings my nose. I sit there, taking slow, deep breaths, mixed with sour milk from this morning. I understand everything is still, that everything is stable. And yet, I don’t. I know what the truth is, but it’s hard to believe it. I can feel the desk shaking in my mind. But not upon my fingertips. I can feel the pencils scribbling over the thin membranes inside my mind, but it’s not happening. How can I believe that something is moving, and yet when I look at it, it’s not? I feel something snap.
Inside of me?
No. It’s the kid beside. The lead broke; a piece of the pencil threatening to fall apart. It screams out to me. The searing pain flows through my veins, crying out for help. I feel half my limbs on one side, the other lay helpless across from me. Extra pieces that shouldn’t be there, they should be here –with me. I can’t help the other half. My mind tries, telling me it’s moving around me, screaming for help. A head snaps up, stares at me. Hypnotic eyes bore inside me. I feel him probing through, inside my mind.
Blood rushes to the surface, it’s my fault. Bit my lip. I can taste it; stale (it’s nothing).
He looks away. His head just went 360. But it hasn't. Remember, it’s a dream. (No, it can’t be.) Stop it. Go away. My mind is laughing. Horrible screeches of laughter pounding in my temples. My eyes are telling the truth. I need to remember that. Listen to your eyes. My breathing is shallow. It won’t stop. My hands are perfectly still, resting upon the desk, on top of the sheet of paper I should be filling with my thoughts. My brain however speaks its own language. It’s overtaking my soul now; slowly binding to it, slipping through the cracks that should be covered. My hands are fluttering, my mind tells me. Nothing is wrong with me. & yet there must be. A blur of fingers. My hands, they won’t stop turning. THEY WON’T STOP SPINING.
Colours begin to blend in. No longer red, but now blue. Forming kaleidoscope shapes in my mind. I can see them in my mind, but not in front of me with my eyes.
I feel them moving faster, everything is about to implode. It doesn’t make any sense. I feel someone staring at me. I look around… it’s nobody. I realize it’s inside me; the chasm threatening to engulf me. The gorge of my soul meets mind, waiting to meet body. Thirsting after it all, just waiting to consume me, all of me.
I drift off… into unconsciousness.
I won’t let it.
Too late…
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Submission Name: panic attack
