The smooth ride and hissing rain must have knocked me out, because suddenly I woke up in my bed. My first thought was what the fuck? I was surrounded by pillows and propped up in a way that would keep my from rolling onto my bad shoulder. My sling had a wide strap that wrapped all the way around my ribs so my arm and shoulder were completely immobilized. I felt pretty stiff from sleeping like a vampire in a coffin all night.
"Ow." I grunted, sitting up on the queen sized mattress. A pile of blankets on the wide, oversized chair in the corner shifted. I froze, caught for a minute in panic mode. The pile of blankets yawned.
"Anderly!" I yelled, taking a breath, "You scared the shit out of me!" My good hand clutched at my chest.
"Sorry babe." Said Anderly. Her long dark hair was a crazy mess, and loose curls spilled out of her ponytail.
"I wanted to make sure you would be okay. Especially with your arm like that." She rubbed her eyes and stood up. She was wearing a huge baby pink t-shirt that said "Bad Bitch" on the front in fancy letters, and bright yellow boyshorts. She stretched her milk-chocolate arms to the ceiling, standing up on her toes. She came down with a sigh.
"I'm fine." I swung my legs off the bed and onto the rug. She came over and slapped her hand on my good shoulder.
"I heard you say 'ow'" She said, face blank.
"Did I?" I said. "I don't recall."
She made a tsk noise and went into the kitchen, "You take a shower, and I'll get your meds ready for you." She said, not turning.
"Yeah." I said to the empty room. Apparently I needed a babysitter at 24 years old. I groaned and dug around one-armed in my hamper of clean clothes that never made it onto a hanger or put away in my dresser. I excavated a faded black shirt, black boxers, and some gray joggers. My whole wardrobe was comfortable and monochrome, much to Hex's disdain. I didn't wear anything with scratchy seams or details, since the nerve pain in my left arm made the skin hypersensitive. I grabbed a towel off the back of my desk chair and sniffed it. Clean enough. Motivation was scarce these days.
My basic attitude about most things was "I don't give a fuck." It was the only way I could get through the day, and I often had to repeat it to myself like a mantra. If I started caring about the opinions of others I'd never escape the anxiety that made me dissolve into panic in every social situation. The fear of judgment, of hatred, of being thought of as annoying or weird. I shoved my fears down into a tiny little box at the back of my mind, and wrapped it with chains.
I definitely needed therapy, but not when I was being forced to and held against my will.
I went out into the main area of my apartment, which held the small kitchen, living area and entry. My place was the whole bottom floor of a tall, old Victorian house that had been divided into two apartments. The place was shabby, but I got a good deal on rent (the landlord accepted my disability housing vouchers) and I liked the location. It even had a spare room, which was basically now a closet of shit I didn't want to deal with. I got to the bathroom door, but I froze just outside.
No, no, no, not now, calm down.
A shiver down my neck. My breath caught, my vision darkened around the edges, and all I could picture was Hex pounding his hands down into my chest, and Anderly's horrified scream rang in my ears-
"Whoa, hey. Cosmo. Look at me." Anderly's warm hands on the sides of my face. She stood right in front of me, making me step back from the bathroom door, trying to bring me back from the void.
"Come on." She said gently, looking into my wide eyes, "Just look at me and breathe, okay?"
I tried, I pulled a breath in, too fast, blew it out. I felt cold. My heart was banging against my ribs.
"No. Babe, here, breathe with me, okay?" She breathed in slowly, and I struggled to copy her. In, out. In, out. We breathed together and the cold lifted away, my heart slowed.
"Good." She said, a gentle smile. "Good, shhh, it's okay." She hugged me, and held me like that for a good five minutes, holding me up and together like she always did. I owed my friends so much, everything.
"I'm sorry." I said weakly, guilt swirling again. Loser. Freak. Get it together.
She just smiled, like she knew exactly what my panic attack was about. She definitely knew.
"Cosmo. It's okay now, come on, you'll feel better after a warm shower, okay? I'll help you, come on." She led me with a hand on my back into the bathroom. She pulled me gently over the threshold, and- I was fine. I didn't need to be scared of the fucking bathroom. Nothing bad was going to happen, Anderly was with me.
She helped me out of the contraption holding my arm bent against my chest, and carefully peeled my sweatshirt over my head. I stretched my arm out slowly, but didn't raise it, since I felt a little stab of pain if I tried and I didn't want to make it worse. There was a large waterproof bandage on the top of my shoulder and another nasty scar underneath.
"Thanks. I'll... I'll be okay now, I think." I said, suddenly tired again. Ashamed of my fucking brain.
"Okay honey." She said, "I'll leave the door open a little, so call if you need help, okay?"
Her eyes looked tired too, but she still smiled for me. I gritted my teeth and nodded, and she left, so I stripped the rest of the way and got in the shower. I leaned my head against the wall and let the water blast onto the back of my neck. Alone, my thoughts swirled like a rip current, dark, painful. Failure, weak, worthless. You make everyone suffer. I tried to push them down and failed. I bit the inside of my cheek and gripped at my faded teal hair with my good hand, a second away from ripping it out in chunks. You should have died. I pounded my head against the tile too gently, once, twice. I wanted to scream until my throat bled. I held it back, like everything else. Fuck.
I turned the shower knob. I wanted to hurt more so I could hurt less. A distraction from my own brain.
Hotter, hotter.
Burn.
~
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