HONEST ART NERD

❝ … fuck. ❞

–it’s coming, it’s coming, it’s coming. He steps back until hitting the wall behind him. Pulse increases. Chest tightens. Alternating waves of hot and cold. ❝ I’m okay– ❞ he tries to reassure the other, but his eyes are already unfocusing. Feeling his knees go weak, Ezekiel sinks onto the ground. ❝ I’m okay, I– I’m okay– ❞ Now he’s chanting it through wheezes and strangled sounds as if trying to persuade himself.

You’d think that being several centuries old means finding a way to rid anxiety and depression. Or that you would gain immunity to it over time. But even magick and immortality have their limits. There are magick-realted possibilities of dealing with this, but it comes at too high of a cost in Ezekiel’s opinion– such as killing a person’s ability to experience emotions for an indefinite period of time. He’s not a fan of pain, fear, guilt, shame, and all the other negative emotions raging inside like a hurricane. But he would never sacrifice his own heart. Without his heart, he wouldn’t be the Keeper of Ash Haven. Human medication doesn’t have an effect on him. The simplest yet most powerful aid he’s missing is support. But as a Blacklisted witch cut off from the magick community, Ezekiel is isolated. And he sure as Hell would never burden any of the kids he watches over with his problems. So, he deals with it alone by burying it deep down. 

But tonight, everything decides to claw its way out. If he was alone, this wouldn’t be as much of a problem. He’s spent countless moments locked up in a room, taken down under by a panic attack. But this is the first time in years it’s happening while he’s with someone. He doesn’t want anyone to see him like this. He feels too exposed, too raw. ( Why is he embracing of other people when they’re vulnerable, but overwhelmed by shame when his own vulnerability shows? ) ❝ Please– y-you– ❞ Ezekiel fights to get the words out. Breathing staggered, he covers his eyes with his hand. As if the darkness can make all this disappear. ❝ You need to go– ❞

             “Dude, no offense but I don’t think you’re all that okay.” Clarence admitted as the man fell to his feet chanting. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure what to do while the man knelt on the floor. Slowly, he lowered himself down as well, sitting cross-legged with the other as his breathing became audibly fast.  

             He really didn’t know the guy. He had just finished washing his hands when the small ‘fuck’ left the other man. He had exchanged a few words to him him, nothing particularly exciting for bathroom chat but this was no longer a brief exchange in the bathroom. The man was having some kind of attack and it rattled Clarence’s chest with fear as he tried to come up with a solution to what was happening. 

             The words struggle to leave the stranger and Clarence shuffles closer, mindful not to get too close in case the man needed space. “Hey...” He said softly. “Hey...” 

Perfect smile.