Two boys with round cheeks and pink faces appeared in front of our picnic blanket.

“Look who it is,” the one with the blue shirt smirked. He was wearing a blue shirt. Everyone in the group looked up. Chloe gasped and shuffled close to me.

“Just as disgusting as always,” the other one, with the red shirt, chuckled.

“Doughy Chloe,” laughed blue shirt.

My eyes widened. Tommy looked repulsed. Jackson looked like he could throw up. Chloe just whimpered into my shoulder.

Tommy was the first to speak. “Who the hell do you think you are?” He said, deepening his voice in an almost comical way, as if he was trying to look tough.

Blue shirt continued. “You think you’re tough, do you?”

Tommy stood. Then he cowered back. The boys where apparently much taller than they originally seemed, almost a head taller than Tom was.

“Who are you?” He said again, trying to regain his composure.

“We’re Chloe’s old friends.”

Chloe whimpered again, shaking her head and shoving it further into my shoulder, as if she was trying to block out the bad.

“Are you her bullies?” Jack asked, his voice small and timid. His own trauma was surely bothering him by now, but I was proud of him for mustering the courage to speak.

“Are you her bullies,” Blue shirt repeated mockingly. “Dunno what you’re talking about, bastard.” He said sarcastically.

Chloe spoke, her voice barely loud enough for me to hear. “They are,” she murmured, shaking uncontrollably, “They are, they are, they are. Make them go away. Please. Please Zoey. Tell them to leave.” She was sobbing now, clutching to my coat.

I pat her head gently, pushing her off me so I could stand.

“You need to leave,” I said. My voice didn’t shake, and I was almost surprised that I sounded stronger than I felt. Right now was about protecting Chloe.

But there was also Tommy and Jack. I couldn’t let them get hurt either – either physically or emotionally – and right now Red and Blue were stepping closer to Tom and towering over him.

My heart pumped in my chest and my breathing almost stopped. It wasn’t like the panic attack I had. It wasn’t like the pain I felt during that first group argument.

This was stronger, surer.

Anger curled in my chest, and my hands clenched into fists.

I stepped between Tommy, who was now curled into his shoulders in fear, and held my arm rigid, swinging hard at Red. Instantly, a white hot pain curled through my knuckles and I pulled it back, wincing in pain. I held it gingerly to my chest, waiting with anticipation to see how he would react.

He looked startled, and the smirk was definitely wiped off his face, but he didn’t seem scared. If anything, I’d made him angrier.

“What do you think you’re doing you fucker?”

“You need to leave.” I said again.

We bickered back and forth, slurs and swears thrown back and forth. I was so focused on him; I didn’t even realise that Blue had made his way around behind me.

By the time I’d noticed, he’d already hit.

He swung at the back of my head, and I heard a sickening crunch. I screamed, but twired around, grabbing him around his throat.

I squeezed as hard as I could. It wasn’t much – I was hardly very strong – but it was enough. He seemed to be struggling to breath, wheezing short huffs of air.

Tommy had already stepped forward again, a line of determination in his eyebrows. He stepped towards Red again, reaching on his tippy toes and punching him square in the jaw.

This shocked me greatly, the power behind Tommie’s punch, and I let my concentration faulter for Blue to punch me in the eye. It was a different pain to that in my skull, but it hurt just as much.

But it was enough. “This isn’t the end,” one of them snarked; my eyes were squeezed close in agony, but I could hear the thump of their footsteps in the snow, running away. They seemed to be laughing in delight but huffing in shock.

I felt vaguely proud of myself for scaring them away, but I couldn’t fight of the growing dread curling like a hot iron in my gut.

My breathing got heavier again, yet my heartbeat seemed steady. I was sinking. I couldn’t breathe. The corners of my vision blurred into a black starry night, until I could only see a small dot.

I could make out my Tommy’s voice, calling my name with worry, but I wasn’t what was important right now.

Chloe.

She was who was important.

I tried to search for her, flailing my head around dramatically, but it only caused my skull to pound in my head and eyes to feel as though someone was pressing a knife against them.

“C-Chloe,” my voice was shaking, a stark contrast to the strong one I’d mustered just moments before.

“Zoey.” Her voice also seemed weak, but she was there. “Zoey are you okay?”

“T-that’s not…” my voice trailed off, catching in my throat. No. I wasn’t important. I’m not important. Chloe was. Her bullies had just insulted her and called her names, and we’d just gotten into a fight. No doubt it had brought up traumatic memories.

Not to mention that they’d brought up her weight – which was not at all doughy, like they’d so blatantly suggested – while she was eating food. That wasn’t good. It could bring her down into another weak of no lunches and forced smiles. It wasn’t good. It was never good.

“Are you okay?” She asked again, her voice now sounding slightly hysterical.

Yes. I wanted to say. I am absolutely fine and this isn’t about me and please tell me that you aren’t going to listen to those horrid people and please look after yourself and stop worrying about me and please, please, please don’t stop yourself from eating or question yourself and withdraw from the group so just stop worrying about me because I’m absolutely one-hundred-percent fine and I just want you tell me how you’re feeling because I’m very scared for you right now.

The words where there, right on the tip of my tongue, but they seemed to stuck. Just as they where about to tumble clumsily from my lips, they turned sour and coiled away like curdled milk.

It was frustrating.

I just needed Chloe to be okay.

My skin was slick with sweat, and suddenly the coat felt way too hot and heavy on my skin.

Reaching for my shoulders, I tried to pull it off, but Jack grabbed my hand to stop it.

The sudden touch startled me, causing me to jump, which startled him and caused him to jump, which startled the group, and caused the group to jump.

No, no, no, no. They’re scared of me. They needed to know I wasn’t going to hurt them the way Red and Blue had.

Just because I’d practically strangled Blue and had spoken in a way the rest of my friends had never seen, didn’t at all mean that I was dangerous. I needed them to know that.

Then, I noticed that Chloe was talking again.

“Zoey. Zo. Please talk to me. You’re scaring us.” You’re scaring us. You’re scaring us. You’re scaring us.

“N-no,” I managed to huff between gasps of air. I couldn’t think properly. There where too many thoughts. Too many sentences. Too many apologies. Too many things I needed to say.

My pulse suddenly quickened, and I pulled back everyone else even though I wasn’t being touched.

“…calling…mum,” someone said (I was past the point of trying to figure out who was who), their voice swimming in and out of my head. “Theres…lots…blood…in danger…”

Whose mum are they calling?

Who’s in danger?

My thoughts instantly snapped back to Chloe, but I knew that she hadn’t been involved in the physical aspect of the fight. Any harm she was experiencing would be internal, and she would probably try and deal with it herself.

Tommy. Was Tom okay? Had he been seriously hurt?

“T-tom,” I mumbled, voice strained in my throat.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Just relax Zo.”

Relax? No, no, no. I couldn’t relax right now. Especially if someone was in danger. Did Jack hurt himself because he was so afraid? Was Tommy injured after fighting with Red? Had Chloe actually been hurt and I’d been too caught up in my own fight to notice? What kind of a friend would that make me? A terrible one.

The breaths came heavier, but I felt like there was no oxygen in my lungs. I shuffled back further.

I couldn’t see my friends, my vision almost completely dark, and I couldn’t hear them either, the voices in my head too loud, but I knew they were there.

They where probably sitting around in a circle.

I could hear the mumbling of someone in on the phone.

Quite whimpers and sobbing from someone in the group.

An agonised scream.

I shot up to my feet, suddenly afraid, before realising that the scream belonged to me. That familiar shaking crept to from my fingertips before travelling through to the rest of my body.

I felt the heavy pressure of a hand on my shoulder again, but I shrugged it off. I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating. Drowning. The words were drowning me. “Don’t touch me!” I yelped.

It was scary. I was so, so afraid. For my friends, mostly, but also for myself.

A panic attack. There was no denying that’s what was happening as I could clearly recognise the sensation from last time, but it didn’t stop the fear and anxiety cutting my skin.

My parents. They would be so worried. They couldn’t know about this. This isn’t about me. My friends. Chloe. Jack. Tom. Chloe. Jack. Tom. It’s about them. Not me.

The words came faster. They slammed against my skull, making my skull pound with pain.

I was vaguely aware of collapsing to the floor, but that wasn’t important right now. My friends where. I needed to get up, to comfort them, to hold them close and tell them how much I loved them, how much they meant to me. I needed to make them feel better after that whole ordeal with the bullies.

People spoke sentences, but I couldn’t hear them over the screaming in my brain. Maybe I was screaming too.

Then, I heard the familiarly firm voice of my father, the wrecked sobs of my mother. They were here, but I couldn’t muster the strength to do anything about it.

“Darling.” It was the one word muttered from my mothers quivering lips that I managed to comprehend. “Breathe.”

“N-no,” I whispered. The words where there, but they didn’t want to leave. They wanted to torture my mind and keep me to themselves. “H-help,” was all I managed to say. Help Jackson. Help Tommy. Help Chloe.

“We’ve got you darling. We’re here.” I heard that sentence, much clearer than the hushed mutters around me. Perhaps this person was closer.

I could feel the usually warm comfort of my father sitting beside me, but he was too close. Yet, I sat as still as I could when I felt him take my coat of. Finally.

The physical weight was quite obviously removed from my shoulders; a weight removed from my back. But the emotional one was still there. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.

“You’re okay,” dad whispered in my ear, for only me to hear.

No! I wanted to scream. This isn’t about me! Chloe’s bullies from her old school showed up and called her names. You need to check that she’s okay. And Tommy, too, they might have hurt him. And I’m so, so, sorry for getting into a fight, but I needed to protect them. My friends. They mean everything to me. Please check that they’re okay.

The words didn’t leave my mouth. They stayed trapped in my head.

I couldn’t see anything, but a part of me didn’t want to. I was afraid of what would see. Would there be monsters threatening to crush me? Would I see a bloody mess? Would Chloe be whimpering to herself with her knees tucked to her chest, would Jack have a bloodied wrist with a small blade in his other hand, or would Tom be nursing a broken arm?

I wanted to see. But I didn’t.

I wanted it to stop. But part of me knew that in the midst of this panic attack I wouldn’t have to know the truth.

Everyone needed to stop worrying about me. “C-c-check,” I stuttered. “F-friends… are… t-they o-o-okay?”

No one answered.

I was drowning in the ocean, but I suddenly let it swallow me and drag me to its depths. I stopped fighting, my energy completely defeated. My skull pounded. The words screamed. Something warm trickled down my cheek.

I’m fine. I’m okay. Stop worrying about me.

This isn’t about me.

Don’t be scared.

Help them.

I’m drowning. I don’t want to drown. Let me drown.

Then everything stopped. The words fell silent. They collapsed in my brain, freeing me from their strangling fingertips that captured my very bones.

I slumped against something; it’s worried voice falling quiet.

It was calm. Peaceful. I let it take me.

Darkness consumed me, an all empty abyss.