No. No. No.
It was happening again. That feeling of impending doom filled my lungs like smoke, leaving no place for air. I was having another panic attack, just like the night at Andrew’s party. I could feel it squeezing tighter and tighter, this tremendous weight of terror rushing over me. It was like the ground beneath my feet would open at any moment and swallow me whole, my entire world disappearing.
I rushed toward the window, trying to open it so I could get some air, but it wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t get it open, and I needed to breathe. “Could you...could you open the window?” I sounded like someone who had just completed a marathon, trying to catch my breath while every muscle in my body was pulled taut.
“Sienna, what’s happening?” He stood next to me.
“I need…I need to breathe.”
“Are you okay?” He unlatched the window and pushed it open, the icy cold air slicing across my cheeks.
I grabbed the windowsill, his words repeating over and over inside my head.
I ran toward her wanting to take her in my arms; the crack of a gunshot sounded.
I was on my knees on the floor when she fell, her little yellow dress drenched in blood.
All I could do was watch her die.
I couldn’t save her.
Every ounce of happiness and joy I ever felt disappeared…just like the life in her eyes.
“No,” I whispered, touching my stomach again. “I can’t. No.”
“Jesus, Sienna.” He grabbed my shoulders and turned me to him, rubbing his hand down the side of my face, his eyes wild and worried. “What’s going on? What’s wrong.”
My throat closed up, my mouth dry, and veins cold. I was so naïve and so enthralled with Noah being back I never once used my fucking head and assessed the magnitude of what really was going on.
Noah's life was in danger.
My life was in danger.
And the life of my unborn child was in danger.
I gasped with unsteady, rapid intakes of breath, but it didn’t get past my throat.
“Sienna. You need to breathe.”
“I can’t.”
“Close your eyes, okay? Think of a square, and inhale as you travel up the one side of the square.”
“What?”
“It’s something they taught us in the marines. You need to imagine a square, imagine tracing your finger up the one side as you inhale, hold your breath and then exhale as you trace down the other side.”
“I can’t.” I winced my mind a vortex of madness, leaving no space for a damn square.
“You have to, okay. You need to breathe. In and out. Deep and slow.”
I gasped, my chest heaving with every labored breath. But no matter how hard I tried, the air couldn’t reach my lungs.
“Noah.” I grabbed his arm, sinking my nails into his flesh as chills wracked down my back. “You have to know.” My voice cracked through the rapid, panicked breaths; the little oxygen I was capable of sucking in burned the inside of my throat, my ribs tightening inside my chest.
Car lights flashed in front of the window, and Noah cursed. “Fuck. That’s Watson. Watson!” Noah called out. “Watson. I need your help!”
“Noah? Where the fuck are you?”