#helplessness

The sound of static was loud even though they were the only one that could hear it.

The room felt suffocating, lackluster, and humid, making it hard to breathe.

Where did the brightness of the room go? Everything was vibrant moments ago.

They've experienced this before, more times than they could count. It never ended well; hyperventilation, spotted vision, and that sharp pain to the chest where the heart lay, pumping away like it's running a marathon.

This was an unwelcomed and hated experience. It left them feeling angry, vulnerable, and a shell of themselves.

Gods! All they wanted was to curl up into a corner and detach. It's hurts so much. The memories that won't stop flashing, that won't go away; that creeps up at unsuspecting times. They hated the memories above anything else and the person associated with them.

The memories are a reminder of how broken they are, how alone it can be, and the painful truth that cruelty can come at the hands of someone you hold dear.

Sometimes, she just wanted to die.

This was how Zayne found her a few minutes later. He had stepped out to retrieve a package, which took longer than intended because the mail carrier wanted his medical opinion about something.

He never expected to return to Bree having an episode. There were broken pieces of glass at her feet from the cup she had her pomegranate juice, trembling hands gripping her clothing.

The heavy breathing and unblinking gaze; the scared and haunted look in her eyes as she stared at the television.

Something she saw triggered her. He needed to bring her back from whatever headspace she was in.

Approaching carefully, Zayne lowered the volume of the TV before blocking its view from her.

He spoke in a soft, clear tone, "Bree. It's me, Zayne. You're currently in Linkon, at my home for the weekend. You're safe. We were talking a few minutes ago before I had to step out for a package. I'm back now. You're not alone... Lyssa and Sylus are coming over later for dinner. The twins are picking up Bon-bon from the play center in a few hours."

He could see she was slowly coming out of her headspace.

"Listen to my voice. Nothing is going to hurt you, not while I'm around... breathe in and out for me... good, just like that."

This carried on for a while until Bree recognized her surroundings. She let out a shaky breath as she swayed slightly.

Zayne had to catch her as her knees buckled. The grip she had on his shirt was strong as she buried her face in it and sobbed.

Being mindful of the glass, he relocated them to the couch, sitting down and carefully placing her on his lap.

He continued to softly provide words of safety while rubbing his thumbs on her trembling hands.

"S--rry"

"Shh. Don't apologize."

"I keep seeing him... the TV... trigger... the knife... feeling helpless... I almost couldn't get away."

"Don't force yourself to tell me. What's important now is that you're safe. I've got you, im not going anywhere."

She buried her face further in his shirt. "I'm scared that one day he'll find me."

"Shh. You're not alone anymore, Bree. Lean on me... you don't have to do this by yourself."

He didn't know how long they sat there, but it was of little concern. Zayne could feel her finally starting to relax.The tension in her shoulders slowly left. The weight of her body resting more against his.

Bree could hear Zayne's heartbeat against her ear, acting as a lullaby as she felt her eyes close from exhaustion.

"I broke your cup."

Zayne gave a light chuckle. "I can get it replaced."

"I've got tears and snot on your shirt."

"I'll be fine, and so will the shirt. You should get some rest. Doctor's orders."

"Stay with me, Zayne?"