I was listening to, Train Wreck by James Arthur while writing this so if you want to, you can too:)
Draco left. Now I was alone.
He had no right in asking me anything about myself. All these years we have been acquaintances, and being in the same “friend” group still didn’t make us hate each other any less.
I took a deep breath.
What happened on Friday was none of his business. Neither was it anyone else’s.
The air grew thicker.
The room grew smaller.
Why are all the walls suddenly getting diminished?
My every breath was starting to get uncontrollable. It felt as if all the memories were fresh again. Flint’s touch on every part of my body. His breath against my neck. Heaving hard with aggression. The way his hands gripped me tight not letting me go.
My body started to shut down. My legs started to collapse onto the floor.
I was only being supported by the wall behind me.
I wasn’t even supported by the comfort of myself.
What did I ever do to deserve that?...
Why couldn’t he just stop?...
Tears started rolling down my face frantically, unstoppable. Each breath I took choked on another. It felt like the knot behind my throat tightened.
Did he really have to?
My lungs heaving for air as if my lungs were being narrowed.
I felt all the water leaving my eyes, soak up my face. My legs tucked under my arms, making sure I could only touch them. My face cupped underneath my knees dripping with tears.
It feels like dark energy is swallowing me whole.
All this, yet the room is still quiet.
I felt my eyes run tired as every last drop capable of water ran across my face.
I felt everything hurt, but at the same time, I felt numb.
I felt like I was stuck in a tiny box, my lungs collapsing.
My heartbeat increased. My hands were tugging at my arms, hugging myself tightly. My breathing still unstable. Biting my lip, trying to loosen up the pain. I wanted someone to reach for me, but there was no one there but myself. I feel my nails clench, indent, my palm. My body felt weak.
Everything around me disappeared, it was just me and the memory.
I was heaving through corrupted lungs,
My head spinning, my eyes hurting as tears kept falling down my face.
Inaudible screams left my dry mouth, my throat burned.
Finally, I felt my tears stop, not because I was done, but because I had nothing left to give. I was drained.
I could control my breathing. Barley. Thinking about my special memory. My trees dancing in the wind under the glistening stars.
My legs felt weak,
I felt weak.
I stayed on the floor, leaning against the wall, my legs wrapped under my arms, my head tucked onto my knees, with my eyes slowly closing.
Psithurism: the sound of wind in trees and rustling leaves.