#i'll write them eventually

      I will throw away my sadness, and lose my heart, Even violate my thoughts, If I can move forward,                                                          ————————————————

Who would have thought there would be so many stories in such a short time? With this I’m introducing another of my OCs, and I’d love to hear what you think of him. 

Warning: Descriptions of vomiting and panic attacks (all under the cut)

Ronnie was pissed off.  

You shouldn’t go out alone! Not in your condition!

He snorted to himself. Condition. That sounded like something that could be healed. It couldn’t be healed. He was irreversibly broken. He was nineteen years old and broken beyond repair and no amount of his father’s shitty money could change that.

Ronnie sighed. He shouldn’t have reacted so aggressive earlier. He shouldn’t have stormed out without saying a word. He knew that his parents only tried to look out for him, to protect him. But he was an adult now; he didn’t want to be kept in a glass bubble, to only go out with someone to accompany him. He wanted to live, not be treated like an invalid. It had been four years now and they still acted as if he was made of porcelain. Also he hadn’t slept well in a few weeks, his insomnia acting up, so he had been a bit more irritable than usual.

His cane hit a curb; the small tremor was enough to rip him out of his thoughts, raising his head. Had he already reached the main street? He stood and listened to the cars racing past him. A large road, at least four lanes. And there was another equally large road a few paces ahead that crossed this one. Ronnie smiled, recognising where he was.

He started making his way to the crossroad, swiping his long cane in front of him and striding along rather quickly. He wasn’t concerned by the fact that he hit a few people along the way, after all there was nothing he could do to prevent that and also he was still in a foul mood and didn’t care.

When he knew that he neared the crossroad he listened intently for the traffic light sound. Of course he had to wait. He positioned himself next to the traffic light post, the tip of his cane resting on the tactile pavement, and waited for the familiar ticking sound to quicken.

Suddenly there were screeching tires, honking, a loud crash and then people yelling all around him. Ronnie stumbled backwards instinctively, trying to get away from the overwhelming noise, feeling his breath quicken. What had happened? A crash? Where? People were still yelling and there was more honking and it seemed like it was coming from all around him. His back hit a wall and he pressed against it to ground himself, pulling his cane close to his body and forcing himself to take deep breaths, feeling disoriented and overwhelmed by the sensory overload.

He didn’t know how long he had been standing there trying to get himself under control when he heard the siren of an ambulance in the distance. He took another deep breath. It was better to get out of here.

He pushed away from the wall and started to tentatively make his way in the direction where he thought he came from, but suddenly his cane was knocked to the side with force, causing him to stumble forwards and to his knees. People were all around him, still yelling far too loud and the ambulance was drawing nearer and he could smell blood and gasoline, everything hurt – No! It wasn’t real, that was long ago, he couldn’t possibly be there. He knew that.

Unfortunately Ronnie’s body didn’t get the memo and he could feel himself starting to shake, cold sweat running down his back while everything felt far too hot, breath becoming quick and shallow, he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs –

Shit.

He hadn’t had a panic attack in over a year, why now? He rolled himself into a ball, still kneeling on the pavement, his hand no longer gripping his cane. He was starting to feel dizzy and sick, his throat closing up more and more making it impossible to ask for help. Did nobody notice?

Then out of the blue there was a hand on his shoulder, making him flinch and a voice talking to him, but he couldn’t hear a thing through the ringing in his ears. He was hauled to his feet, pulled close into a lean body and lead off to somewhere. He couldn’t tell in which direction they were going but suddenly it was quiet and he was sitting next to someone on what felt like a park bench. Ronnie was still trembling and hyperventilating, the darkness around him making the dizzy feeling even more disconcerting.

All of a sudden he felt his stomach lurch. He leant over to the right, away from whoever that was next to him and threw up his meagre lunch. Instantly there was a hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing soothing circles. If he had been in his right mind he probably would have batted their hand away, but right now he couldn’t even breath properly and the touch felt… nice. Before he could think anything else, he jerked forward again, bringing up another weak stream of half digested food before dry heaving a few times, his own retches reverberating in his skull.

He stayed leaned over for a bit after, his breathing finally evening out, body temperature returning to normal. A paper tissue was pressed to his hand and he gratefully took it and wiped his mouth with it before becoming fully aware of his situation. He’d just had a major panic attack in public resulting in him puking in front of at least one complete stranger. Shit. And he’d thought his day was bad before that.

As if on cue a voice, a soft voice came from his left, he couldn’t quite decide whether it was male or female.

“Are you okay now?”

He nodded hesitantly before starting to feel around himself.

“Where… my cane, where is it?” he asked, hating how weak and shaky his voice sounded.

“Don’t worry, it is right here” the voice answered and his cane was pressed against the back of his hand still trembling hand. “But I don’t think you should walk just yet, you look a bit unsteady.”

Ronnie frowned at that and proceeded to get up, purely out of spite, only to get dizzy and slump back onto the bench, a steadying hand on his shoulder. He let out an impatient sigh, but decided to stay for now in order not to embarrass himself any further.

“Where are we?” he asked instead.

“The big park next to the cathedral.”

Ronnie exhaled in relieve. He knew that one.

“What happened back there?” he asked. The other took a few moments to answer.

“There was a bad car crash” they then answered. “You had a panic attack in the middle of the sidewalk, I brought you here.”

“Wow, thanks, I hadn’t noticed” Ronnie snapped sarcastically before he could stop himself. He sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. Thank you for helping me. I’m Ronnie by the way.”

He heard a small chuckle.

“It’s okay, I can’t believe nobody else acted. I’m Finn.”

There was a short silence in which Ronnie tried to figure out what to say next. He hadn’t really been one for social interaction in the last few years.

“Soo… do you live around here?” he eventually asked in an attempt to make small talk. Finn chuckled again, but this time it sounded harder without any humour in it.

“Yes, you could say that. I slept on the bench over there last night.”

Ronnie didn’t know what to say to that.

“You’re… homeless?” he asked tentatively. Finn didn’t smell like he thought homeless people smelled and he sounded normal as well. But then again, he couldn’t say that he knew a lot of homeless people. There was a short silence before Finn spoke up again.

“Oh, uh… yes I am.”

“You just nodded didn’t you?” Ronnie asked and suddenly he had to laugh, even though he didn’t know why. He laughed tears and soon he was joined by Finn.

“Yes I did” Finn said when they had calmed down. “I’m sorry. So you really are completely blind?”

“Yes I am” Ronnie answered shortly. They fell into silence again.

“So… thanks again for helping me. You’re a nice guy” Ronnie then said awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. He really wanted to know why Finn was homeless, but he didn’t want to be insensitive. He didn’t like questions about his blindness either.

“Girl” Finn’s voice piped up. “Today I’m a nice girl.”

“Today?” Ronnie frowned confused. “Will you not be a girl tomorrow?”

“Maybe not” Finn said and Ronnie could hear a smile in her voice. “I’m bigender, theoretically I could switch to being male at any moment. But I normally don’t, don’t worry” she added. Ronnie took a moment to process what she had said.

“You’re really interesting,” he then said. “Could you tell me what time it is?”

“Half past six, why? Does the rich boy have to get home for dinner?”

“How do you know I’m a rich boy?” Ronnie asked indignantly. Finn laughed again.

“Oh please! I can tell from the way you dress and talk. Don’t worry, I didn’t pick pocket you” she said.

Ronnie felt himself grow angry for some reason.

“What, because I’m blind?” he asked, his tone sharper than intended.

“No, dude, calm down” Finn answered. “I wouldn’t pick anyone’s pocket if they were having a panic attack.”

Ronnie relaxed again.

“I have to go now…” he said hesitantly, thinking of a way to reward Finn for helping him. He didn’t have much money on him. Then an idea came to him and he leant his cane next to him against the bench, digging through his jacket for his wallet.

“Here”, he said, pulling out a card. “If you ever need anything, please give me a call.”

Finn snorted. “What, am I your charity case now?” she asked snappy.

“No” Ronnie replied simply. “But you helped me and you seem like an alright person.” He took up his cane and stood.

“Which way is the main gate?” he asked.

“Turn left and walk straight ahead.” Finn answered, sounding a bit more docile.