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We were all sat in a circle, debriefing for the night. I hadn't slept well last night for fear of future days. Anxiety was pent up inside me. Useless what-ifs and existential dread. A panic attack waiting to happen. Aaron's father, Anderson, was one of my biggest worries. Him previously shooting me and almost killing me left quite a memory which made it hard to sleep sometimes. Aaron understood, so he mentioned nothing. As I listened to everyone talk about their plans, I drew shapes on the mat beside me, lost in thought and worries.
"What do you think, Juliette?" I hear Lily's voice ask me.
"Hm?" I look up to see the group looking at me. I feel Aaron's gaze on me, fixed as he waits for my answer.
"I was just wondering if you had any disagreements with our plan?"
"Oh, no, everything sounds fine." I feign. I had no clue what they were talking about.
"J, are you alright? You've seemed out of it all day," Kenji asks me.
"Oh, yeah, sorry. I'm okay." I sigh, anxiety ruminating in my stomach. "I'm probably gonna head up to bed now though, we've got a long few days ahead of us." I say, getting up and heading towards the elevator. I notice Aaron starts to get up too.
"Oh, don't get up on my behalf, you guys can continue talking." I know Aaron disagrees with this notion and I know he can tell how badly I'm taking this whole situation. I mean what, did I seriously think that I was the one for this job?
Before I can let my thinking off it's leash, I wave goodbye. I'd think about this alone where nobody would have to see.
I hear a cacophony of 'goodnight''s and 'see you tomorrow''s I don't respond to.
I press the elevator close button and the doors close.
I want to die.
The anxiety and pent up frustration bubble to the surface. It doesn't help that the physical place I'm in is such close quarters. It reminds me of my time in the asylum. Although it wasn't a small space, it still felt trapping. I remember when I was taken there, at my house. It was right before I was supposed to go to school. I yelled once for my parents as they took me away but they didn't come out. Nobody did. After that first scream I rendered it useless, giving up. I remember why I was dragged away. Murder. I killed a boy. But I didn't know. Murder. I almost died. Anderson shot me and I almost died.
I'm snapped out of my thoughts when the elevator dings my stop. Aaron's room. I make my way to the bed, collapsing. My thoughts run wild. Anderson is going to find me. Or he's going to lure me out and kidnap me. I will be tested and tried on and I will beg for death and it will not come. He's going to know I'm here and then he's going to make me suffer. Maybe he already knows I'm here. Word travels quickly, what if someone had seen me while I was sneaking out? If he finds me I will be thankful that it was so easy—the way he simply shot me—the first time. It will have been a blessing. Taken for granted.
And suddenly I can't breathe. Suddenly I'm wheezing, gasping for air that's filled this room but somehow escapes me. Sharp inhales for a feeble attempt at inhaling. I'm going to die. This is it. Before Anderson even has a chance to touch me I'm going to die of asphyxiation. I claw at my throat and my chest. The inability to get air in my lungs terrifying me as tears spill down my cheeks. I will die in Aaron Warner's bed. I gasp, struggling struggling struggling. Forcefully massaging my chest, praying my lungs expand and begging for someone to help me.
And then I notice him. Crouched down in front of me, his hands cupping my face.
"Breathe, Juliette. I need you to breathe," he begs me. Panic is laced in his voice. This spurs my thought process. If he's worried, maybe it's useless. Aaron never worries. It's over. I'm going to die.
"I can't," I gasp out. I'm clutching his shoulder. Fear painted in my eyes. "I can't breathe Aaron."
I can't breathe I can't breathe I can't breathe I can't breathe I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die.
"Focus on my breaths. In your nose, out your mouth. Like I do."
I try, copying his breathing. In out in out in out in out. I repeat this in my head. Tears are still falling down by the time I can breathe again. My body is shaking. I am in a million little pieces everywhere.
"I'm going to go grab something, alright? I'm just going to the bathroom. Will you be alright for a moment?" He asks me.
I nod, my throat like sandpaper.
Aaron leaves to go to the bathroom and a minute later comes back with a pill and water.
"Here, this pill will help you calm down a little more," he hands me both objects and I down them in a matter of seconds. He watches me closely.
He speaks after a few beats of silence. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
Right now I can only focus on.. nothing? My mind is blank. I give Aaron a blank stare. "Your panic attack?" He leads.
"Oh, yeah, it was just about. Everything." I say breathlessly. I'm tired. I'm so, so tired. "Like, you know. Taking over everything. Surviving your father. I just thought, how kind was he to shoot me in the chest the first time. If he gets a hold of me I don't think it'll be that easy." I take his hand and trace shapes on the back of it lightly. "It's just really scary is all." And as I say these words I feel better. I can't tell if this is the pill or not. I think simply. Only about the things I'm questioned on at the moment or about nothing at all.
Aaron stays quiet as he watches me trace his hand. Like a child.
"What's wrong?" I ask him.
"Why didn't you want me to come with you originally, when you first went up here?"
"Oh I don't know," I shrug. "I needed a second alone but then.. that happened." I sigh. "I'm sorry."
There's alarm in his face. "Sorry? Juliette, what could you possibly be sorry for?"
I look at him like he's crazy. "What do you mean? I've stolen one of your pills that does something, I'm not sure, had a mental breakdown on your bed, ruined the night and now I want to cry and sleep because I'm just so tired. I'm so sorry Aaron." I feel the tears prickle by my nose. "I'm so sorry." I caress his face and he stops me, bringing his hand to cover mine.
"No, no, you have nothing to be sorry for. Never apologize for your feelings." He says, stern in tone but soft in his eyes.
"Ugh, I sound insane." I remark as he wipes away my tears.
"You are not insane, love."
I smile at him and kiss him, running my hands through his hair and down his neck. He wraps his arms around my back and returns my kiss. He runs his lips down my jawline, my neck, my collarbone. He returns to look at me.
"I love you," I say, whispering.
"I love you," he responds simply.
He picks me up and lays me down on the bed. Slowly taking off a layer of clothing. One by one. My thoughts are muddled and confused but I accept this. I accept it wholeheartedly. Once I'm stripped down to my underwear, he gets up.
"Aaron?" I call to him. He comes back with a shirt and pajama bottoms.
"I'm not going to let you go to bed in your day clothes. Sorry, love." He smiles at me.
"I could've gotten those you know," I tease as he slips the garments of fabric onto my body. His warm hands feel so nice. So so nice.
"I'm sure. After tripping and falling the entire way. Those pills really kick out your senses, I know."
I don't object to this and let him finish dressing me. My eyes barely open. He then leaves again and returns in his own pajamas.
He tucks me into the blankets, climbing in after me and wrapping his arm around my waist. I push myself closer to him so that we're as close as possible. My eyes shut. My breathing is even. Quiet. Whispers. Being like this, I want to shut the world out forever. But at least for now, at this moment, at this minute, it is perfect.