14 | anxiety

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E P I G R A P H

We're a mess, you and I. But the truth is,
you captivate me in ways no soul ever will

fourteen | anxiety

As I stared at Holt's retreating figure before pulling myself together and stuffing my hands into the pocket of my hoodie.

It's going to be a good day, I'm manifesting it right now.

I headed over to my friends and boyfriend whom were all crowded in a circle near the wall of blue lockers.

Esme wrapped her thin pale arms around me, pulling me into her side as she greeted me happily. I greeted her back, but everyone else seemed all but happy that I was here, Zayden included. But, I guess he is never really happy when I'm here.

Everyone was conversing about some party, tons of different things being said from different people including Zayden whom seemed awfully excited.

I narrowed my eyes at him as I watched the way his lips moved with every word he spoke, the way his brown eyes lit up with interest and the way his smile lines extended from his nostrils to the corners of his lips.

I watched as he ran his hand through his shaggy brown hair, I watched as he laughed loudly at one of the jokes Easton made, I watched in hopes maybe I'd find something to love, something to delve my heart into, but then I realised beyond that façade of his, is a stone cold heart that only beats when he is granted attention.

He's never been all there, and I always had thought I could help him to be a better person, I thought I could fix him but not everyone is capable of being fixed. Correction, not all people want to be fixed.

I'm always there for him, I'm just not sure how much longer I can be there. I'm not sure how much longer I can be his punching bag. I spend each day not knowing whether I'm going to get a punch of anger or a punch of affection, it's a guessing game really.

I want so desperately to love him because I need someone to be there for me too, I need a companion, but one filled with all things love related. I need the lust, the compassion, the tender kisses and the play-fights, the stupid arguments and the goodnight messages.

What I have is a walking time bomb, ticking with anger and insecurity, sadness and loneliness.

I feel like a terrible person saying these things because I definitely know what it is like to feel vulnerable, I know what it's like to have an unfillable void. But I no longer think I can be that person for him, and I know he can't be that person for me.

I don't think it's fair if I continue a relationship I have no intention of putting my all into, and I'm not the only one who doesn't do that, he does too. He has become a toxic person in my life and as much as I hate to admit it, I think I'm becoming toxic for him too.

It's hard knowing you're not good for someone, but it's life. Whether you mean to be poison or not, sometimes it just happens.

In this case our relationship is nothing but venomous and unhealthy.

I need the comfort; I need the security and if I'm being honest (I'll never admit this to Holt) but I need the replacement of Everest. I need something to replace what used to be there and though Everest and Zayden are barely anything alike, anyone is someone when you need it.

I bit my lip nervously as I stepped forward, "Zayden, can I speak to you for a moment?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, sensing something is wrong as he grabbed my hand with his, leading me down the corridor and onto the field near the bleachers before he sat now on the second bench from the bottom.

I sat down next to him, straddling the wooden bench as I stared at him nervously.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked, placing his hand on my thigh.

I inhaled a sharp breath. He chooses now to be nice? He's going to make this more difficult then it is already going to be.

"Look, I've been thinking a lot and—"

He cut me off, "—You're leaving me?"

I scoffed, my lips parting as every single word I've ever learnt left my brain. I was completely speechless, and I did not know how to respond to that. I don't know how he knew what I was going to say, but I'm about to pee myself, nonetheless.

I nodded slowly, "Not because I want to, but because I don't think this—" I waved my hands around, "—is healthy."

He laughed. Though it wasn't a proper humorous laugh, it was venomous and filled with hatred. Zayden never scares me, but the tone behind his laugh was enough to send a chill down my spine.

"It's Holt, isn't it?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, "What?" I replied in disbelief, "What does he have to do with this?"

He glared at me, "Don't act stupid." He seethed, "You're falling for him, so now you're done with me, huh?"

I rolled my eyes, "That's not correct at all." I spat, "You're acting pathetic, Zayden. You can't stop the inevitable." I folded my arms over my chest.

The inevitable is us. Zayden and I. We have been temporary since the moment we started dating and he's a liar if he can't see that because it's not foggy, it's plainly obvious and he knows it too.

"You're so oblivious," he spat, standing up as I angered him further, "You can't leave me."

I stood up also, trying to see intimidating but it's hard when you're the height of a mini freezer.

"Why not?" I pushed, a teasing smirk on my lips as I waited for him to give me an answer.

His features twisted before a smirk much like mine settled on his lips and suddenly I feared what his response would be.

"Because if you do. . " he paused, "I'll kill myself."

My smirk was erased completely and immediately replaced with a frown, "Don't pull that shit on me." I fired back.

He laughed, "I will." He responded, "I'll fucking hang myself and I'll make sure to leave a note behind stating it was completely your fault."

I shook my head in disappointment. Suicide is no joke and it is definitely not something that should be thrown around in order to prevent someone from leaving them.

This isn't the first time he's done this. He's done it a few times when we've had big fights and I have tried to leave or I win the argument, he'll utter those horrible words and suddenly I'm dragged down because one thing I could never handle being responsible for is the suicide of someone I once called my boyfriend.

I still blame myself for the death of my ex-boyfriend, I don't need to be blamed for another.

After he died, I spent months on end blaming myself, telling myself that if I hadn't been such an annoying clingy girlfriend and allowed him to cross the road then he wouldn't have been there in the first place. I blamed myself because if I had held the conversation for just ten seconds longer, he'd still be here, and he'd be okay.

If I hadn't been so weak and let his best friend touch me, I wouldn't have been upset in the first place and left with his brother, that would have prevented the situation entirely, but I'm weak. I really am. I'm weak, I'm weak, I'm weak.

I couldn't prevent getting assaulted, I couldn't prevent my ex-boyfriends' death and I can't prevent staying with my boyfriend.

I never thought I'd be forced to stay with someone.

Zayden knows he can dangle death over me, and I'll run because I don't want to deal with it. Besides being alone, I fear death, especially to the ones I care about.

"What you're doing right now is abuse, Zayden." I finally spoke up.

He clenched his jaw, "It's not abuse, Halo." He mimicked, "Just stay with me and the problems solved."

I gulped. I'm too stubborn to be having this conversation. I don't want to give in, but I don't really have much of a choice.

"Will you—will you change?" I stuttered.

He placed his hands on my waist, pulling my closer to him as he tilted my head upwards so I was looking up at him, "I will. I promise."

He leant down before crashing his lips onto mine and it made me want to throw up. I didn't kiss back, my lips stayed firmly pressed together. He may be able to make me stay with him but that doesn't mean I have to kiss him back.

The bell sounded and I could feel my walls cracking, the fearless walls I built up to prevent me from breaking completely but after what just happens, I can feel them becoming frail.

"I'll see you at lunch," he smirked before walking off.

I narrowed my eyes at the back of his head, "Fucking asshole." I murmured angrily.

He turned around, "What?" he asked confused.

I forced a faux smile onto my lips, "Oh, nothing."

He narrowed his eyes at me before turning back around and walking off completely this time.

I sighed in relief, he was gone finaly, not entirely but temporarily and that was enough right now.

I felt claustrophobic suddenly, like all the non-existent walls were closing in on me and out of no where, I couldn't breathe. My throat felt as though it was closing up and my ears started to ring as my hands trembled and became clammy.

I couldn't think properly, my thoughts were racing but none of them were clear except two things.

One, I'm having an anxiety attack and two, I need to find Holt. I don't know why, but my body, my mind and my heart were all begging for his company, I physically couldn't fight the urge that told me that I needed to find him. Now.

I'm usually somewhat strong and able to handle myself but what just happened triggered something in me and I don't feel okay, far from it. I don't like being controlled and I especially don't like not being able to have a choice or say in something.

I feel like I'm a hurricane right now, twirling around and crashing into everything—unable to control myself or my surroundings. I am the monster destroying everything and the debris are my emotions, my sadness, my anxiety. Everything.

I haven't suffered from an anxiety attack in years. . .since Ever died. I think I lost count of how many times I sat in the corner of my room hyperventilating with his jumper held to my chest because it smelt like him and smelling his musky scent just made it worse because I know that smell, I'll never smell again.

I hastily turned around, searching the field for Holt's tall frame but my eyes were clouded with tears and my vision was extremely foggy.

I spotted a tall dark figure under the tree I know that Holt smokes a lot under and before I could process what was happening, my legs took over and suddenly I was sprinting in the direction of the tall cedar tree before I stopped behind the person.

I didn't have to speak; my sniffles were enough for the person to hear me.

They turned around vastly, and their expression contorted to the same as mine, shock.

"Halo?" Ace gawked.

I quickly swiped away the stray tears beneath my eyes and used the sleeve of my hoodie to wipe my nose.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else." I apologised; my cheeks tainted with crimson.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared down at me with deep concern, "What happened?"

I shook my head, slowly stepping back. I can't talk right now, the way he's staring at me makes me feel worse, I feel like a small ant being looked down upon.

"Wait," he stopped me, "Can I at least help you find who you're looking for?"

I gulped, my throat feeling dryer then the Sahara Desert, "H-Holt." I murmured barely above a whisper.

His face etched with shock before he nodded, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and sending a quick text to Holt, I'm assuming.

I rocked myself back and forth as I folded my arms over my chest, directing my eyes to the grass by my feet as I was unable to hold eye contact with Ace right now.

I probably look completely insane, like a mental patient with my bloodshot eyes and my tear stained cheeks.

I was unable to stand here with him anymore and look like this, I know Ace just contacted Holt (well hopefully) but I just can't. I can't stand here and attempt to hold a conversation when it feels as though the earth is shrinking by the minute.

I turned on my heel before bolting off in the direction of the school building, hearing Ace's shouts as I opened the door before continuing to run down the corridor when suddenly my foot decided that it didn't want to grip to the tiled flooring anymore and I was sent flying to the ground.

I put my hands out in front of me by impulse when I collided with the ground.

I grunted, immediately feeling a stinging sensation in both of my knees as I hurried to sit up, but I couldn't stand up.

I scurried back against the lockers, the metal on my back making me wince as I hugged my knees to my chest, sobbing.

Of course, I had to fall too.

I'm being stupid. None of this is worth crying about, I just need to calm down and everything will be fine.

"Fuck, Halo." I heard his voice.

I reluctantly looked up, my caramel orbs connecting with his grey ones and it was immediately enough to settle me down.

He looked down at me just like Ace had except more worried, his perfectly arched eyebrows were furrowed, and his forehead slicked with sweat. Almost like he had. . . ran here or something.

"What happened?" he murmured as he crouched down in front of me.

I panted, shaking my head, "I-I don't know."

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it softly as he analysed me.

"Angel. . .I need you to speak to me, I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."

I sniffled once again, rubbing my eyes in an attempt to rid of the tears that won't stop from exiting my tear ducts.

"Z-Zayden," I said bluntly in between pants, "Everest. . .Anxiety."

He stared at me with a blank expression, but I could tell he still understood what I was meaning, regardless of the fact I only gave one word responses with no background information, he understands me.

He sighed, placing his hands on his Jean clad kneecaps to keep himself balanced. My eyes immediately darted to the ace symbol on his index finger next to the two fingers that have the skull and the moon.

I could tell by how dark the ink was and how tight the skin was, that it was indeed new.

"Its new," he answered my thoughts, "We know a guy with a tattoo gun, we were bored and I let Ace choose my tattoo and that's what he chose." He explained.

I nodded, listening to his every word, "D-Did Ace get one?"

He nodded, keeping his eyes trained on me, "Yeah he got a stop sign, on his ankle." He chuckled making me giggle too, "You know cause of my name, Holt. . Like stop."

I nodded, "I know, I understand."

"Do you want to know about any of my other tattoos?" he asked softly.

I bit my lip, nodding lightly before pointing at the small rocket ship towards the top of his arm near Saturn and it was surrounded by small stars.

He laughed as I pointed to it, "I always liked space when I was younger." He smiled as he relived the memories, "I wanted to be an astronaut."

I smiled at the concept of young Holt drawing rocket ships with crayons in hopes of actually going in one, one day.

"W-What does that q-quote mean?" I asked hesitantly as I reached out to point at the words imprinted into his skin in a neat yet normal, arial like font.

I sucked in a sharp breathe as I ran my finger over the words 'don't tell me how to feel' it said, placed on his upper arm once again but slightly off to the side, so that if he hadn't had his arm bent in this way, it'd be situated on the back of his arm almost.

"It's just a big fuck you to my parents, really." He smirked, making me smile.

I've met Vera and Matthew, Holt's parents, before and we've interacted many times, over dinners, over watching movies or just making small talk when I came to visit Ever and every time they never ceased to make me feel at home.

Matthew can be a little bit up-tight and blunt but Vera makes up for it with her bubbly and open personality.

I guess they must have changed after the passing of their son.

He stood up finally, his legs probably getting sore from being crouched down for so long, before he planted himself down on the ground next to me, his legs extended out in front of him as he rested his head against the locker behind him, turning to stare at me.

"Would you ever get a tattoo?" he questioned me.

I didn't even have to think about it before answering, "I'd love to." I responded, "But I wouldn't know what to get."

He smiled wider, seeming happy with my answer, "Art." He said. I blinked not understanding what he meant, "Art. That's it. Just the word 'art'"

Simple, weird and basic but I like it.

We stayed silent for a moment and it was then that I had realised he had calmed me down. I was no longer crying, I wasn't panting or shaking, sweating or sobbing. I was stable and he fixed me without me noticing.

"Thank you," I murmured softly.

He raised an eyebrow, "For?"

"Helping me breathe again." I replied cheekily.

He nodded, an emotionless expression on his face, "I know an anxiety attack when I see one."

I furrowed my eyebrows. He has anxiety attacks?

"Were you in class? I'm sorry if I bothered—"

He shook his head, cutting me off, "I wasn't."

I nodded, scoffing at his sudden harsh tone. I'm okay again, I'm not sad and needy anymore, so now he's going to out those walls up again.

Those tall brick walls that prevent anyone from seeing the real Holt Stone. Those walls hide the boy with cute meanings behind his tattoos and a fear of being alone, so people only see what he wants them to.

The bad boy that wears black and always looks so effortlessly attractive, the dangerous boy with a sleeve of tattoos and a stench of marijuana. He may be that too, but that's not all him.

I've never known him as more than my ex-boyfriends twin brother, up until now. And I think besides Ace, Mason and now me, everyone thinks the same. That's why he is the way he is.

"Are you going to tell me exactly what happened, now?" he questioned.

I sighed shakily, growing nervous. I wanted to tell him because I think that I can trust him, he knows what it is like to be judged, so I doubt he'd judge me.

He really is my last and only resort. Alix isn't even an option, she'd laugh in my face. Zayden is the problem, so obviously I can't go to him, and Esme well I can trust her, I'm just not sure she'd be able to help me. She's not here right now.

"Zayden and I just had a fight, it was nothing." I attempted to shrug it off.

He narrowed his eyes at me, "Obviously it was something or you wouldn't have had an anxiety attack."

I winced at his use of words, knowing he is completely correct. It was something, as much as I wish it was nothing.

"I tried to break up with him." I blurted.

His eyes widened and I'm not sure why, maybe he's just shocked that I got sick of being treated like a meaningless mere spec of dust.

"Tried?" he said lowly.

I gulped, nodding, "Yeah. . .he threatened me."

I felt so dramatic uttering those words, like I was exaggerating but unfortunately I was not.

"What the fuck did he do?" he said harshly.

I flinched at his tone, "He said that if I were to leave him, then he'd kill himself."

Holt stayed silent for a moment as he processed my words before pulling himself off the ground, so

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