Chapter 25

                                    

                                          
I could feel it racing through me. In my blood, I was painfully aware of it. I could hear my heartbeat and my head was throbbing. My legs turned to lead, and I couldn't move. Dropping to my knees, my eyes grew wide. Each breath was heavy. It was so intense, there was no room for anything else. There was no feather nor peace, only fear.
                          
I was alone in the classroom, sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. My eyes refused to focus. The trembling in my hands spread to my shoulders and soon I was near convulsing. Breathing erratic, short gasps of air were expelled quickly.
                          
Lips curling in a manic grin, I fought to get my knees in front of me. Dropping my head low, I curled into a ball, running my hands through my hair. The feather, think of the feather.
                          
Seconds slowed and ticked by as the feather formed in my mind. It was blasted in all directions, refusing to settle. A breeze would lift it up and a gale would smash it against the ground. Clouds drifted overhead, blotting out the sun. The warmth disappeared from my skin, cold and dread replacing it. I refused to break.
                          
The clouds disappeared. There was no sun. No heat nor chill. Only the feather remained. It fell to the ground, bounced skywards again and for a moment it stilled. My hands finally stopped shaking and my breathing calmed. Sighing, I took a moment to hug myself. My legs turned from lead to jelly, and I stretched them reluctantly.
                          
Closing my eyes, I pressed against the wall and tilted my head upwards. Another panic attack maybe? I know self-diagnosing can be dangerous, but I can't think of any other explanation. I can't rationalise this fear that is always there. Sometimes it's small and harmless, and other times it can be like now, a horrible dark, encroaching on everything hopeful. 
                          
Scoffing, I shook my head and ran my hands through my hair. The hoarse whisper that escaped my throat was barely even a squeak. "What are you scared of?"
                          
Waiting a little longer, I regained some more strength. Eventually deciding I was feeling well enough, I stood, took a moment to steady my feet, and left the classroom. My bag slung over my shoulder, I made my way from the second-floor classrooms, back to the dorms.
                          
As I walked, a clock caught my eye. It was four pm, classes had ended at three-thirty. Far out, this fear is a real pain in my arse.
                          
"J, what are you doing here?"
                          
Blinking, I stopped in my tracks. I hadn't even noticed Charlotte standing there. Her brows were knitted in concern, but her back was straight and her head was up.
                          
"I'm just leaving. You?" I asked, smiling and answering casually. That is technically the truth. Sure, it's not the whole truth, but this isn't something I feel comfortable telling her.
                          
Her lips curling in a skeptical frown, Charlotte's voice filled with suspicion. "I'm delivering these to the teacher's lounge," she said, lifting the bundle of papers cradled in her arms. "Are you okay? You look pale."
                          
Caught by surprise, my jaw dropped slightly, and I recoiled. Guess we're having a conversation now. Brain, activate people functions.
                          
Grinning sheepishly, I rubbed the back of my neck. "I didn't sleep much last night. The book I was reading was just too good."
                          
Her suspicious gaze lingered for a moment but then Charlotte smiled, her mood brightening. "Alright then. Would you mind giving me a hand with these?"
                          
"Sure," I answered, taking some of the papers from her.
                          
The relief in her face was obvious as she smiled gratefully and collected the loose sheets which threatened to fall to the floor. Gesturing with her head, Charlotte moved past me and made for the teacher's lounge. Following, I quickly overtook her.