Page 7 of Trapped: Between Sky And Wind

Madness, a voice inside me whispers. It still is now like it was then. Bren is sick.

Yes, but he admitted that to himself and I knew it before I came.

Christ, pull yourself together, Lou! It’s Bren!

I blink a few times but something is wrong with my eyes. The corners and edges blur to a fuzzy gray. Bren’s face appears oversized in front of mine. I’ll kill you! he yells. Images unravel in my head like fast-forwarding a video: me in the back of the RV, discovering the clothes, blood like ice in my veins. How I fool Bren and jump out the window, how he knocks me over, blindly grabs my neck, filled with rage… I said don’t leave me! Do. Not. Leave. Me.

A metallic taste settles on my tongue, a taste that reminds me of the clink of chains. My throat constricts.

Breathe. Keep breathing, Lou. Last year, you did it repeatedly. It was much worse then.

I inhale deeply. Long in, short out, like Liam does while meditating. It is easy. I keep trying, in-in-out—but my breathing is muddled. I’m not getting enough oxygen. I try hard to swallow the metallic taste, but my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. These are only clothes, Lou! But the images won’t stop squeezing past my breaths into my mind. I’ll kill you! My lips start to tingle and my hands go numb. This is the moment when my rational thinking surrenders. Last year’s fear came back the moment I discovered the clothes.

“Bren?” With leaden legs, I stumble down the aisle to the side door and down the steps. I need more air… I try to open the door but it won’t budge. It is locked! Trapped. Trapped. Trapped. The word crushes me like a millstone. I bang on the panel with my fists, tugging at the handle again and again. At some point, the door gives way and I fall out with a dry sob, landing on my knees. Everything is dark.

So dark…

I want to scream for Bren, but I can’t get a word out. Then, suddenly, he is there as if he felt I needed his help.

He pulls me to my feet and grabs me around the waist from behind. “Lou, dear God!” He sounds scared to death. The next moment, he puts his hand over my mouth and nose. The grip stirs up new panic and I lash out, hitting something, but his fingers don’t relax. “Breathe into my hand,” I hear him say with determination and calm, and something inside me understands: Hold still! I won’t hurt you!

Hot waves of panic roll through my body. I understand what’s happening, and at the same time, I don’t. In the background, Grey is barking like mad.

“Everything is fine, Lou. You have to stay calm…breathe.” Bren’s voice is near my ear. “Everything’s okay.” He repeats it like a mantra and doesn’t let go of me. Something about that grip is infinitely familiar, infinitely comforting. It brings me back to the present. I realize that it’s not a cloth with chloroform on my face, it’s his cupped hand. I know he only wants to help me, and eventually, I’ll be able to breathe again. The area, which previously only consisted of darkness, regains its contours. First, I make out the tall skeletons of the trees and then I spot Grey next to us, now wagging his tail excitedly. He licks my fingers and I laugh despite the shock and fear.

“Lou?” Bren relaxes his arms.

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” I reply quickly, not wanting Bren to worry anymore. I free myself from his grip and turn to face him, shaking.

He narrows his eyes and looks at me. “You’re white as a sheet. I don’t believe a word you say,” he replies angrily. I don’t know what face I’m making, but his expression immediately softens. “It’s okay, Lou!” He picks me up in his arms, carries me up the steps of the RV, and sets me on the bench.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone, not right away.” He takes a wool blanket from a closet and drapes it over my shoulders, then slides open the side window by the table, allowing fresh air into the RV.

From the forest comes a bright, lonely hoot of a screech owl—it sounds eerie to me. A chill travels down my spine.

“What were you afraid of?” Bren eyes me from above. I can almost feel his concern. Just like last year. He carefully monitored everything that concerned my well-being.

I feel exhausted and I rest my head on the cool tabletop. The cold is good, it helps clear my mind. I’m still muddled though.

Bren brushes my sweaty hair out of my face. “You had a panic attack and hyperventilated.”

“What?” I reply, confused. That’s not possible. I don’t get panic attacks.

“Lou, can you speak? Can you tell me what happened? When did it start?”

I turn my head and blink. I notice how tense his hands look as if he is ready to fight.

I pull the blanket tighter around my body. “I… I don’t know. I was going to put my things away when I saw the clothes…” I’m freezing and my fingers still feel tingly.

“You mean the ones I bought you last year?” Bren asks.

I nod hesitantly and slowly sit up again. “They’re only clothes…” I stammer, confused.

“Only clothes!” Bren snorts angrily and then, without warning, smashes his fist into the wall. The whole RV wobbles and a Coke bottle on the counter tips over.

I instinctively grip the blanket tighter. “Why are you so angry?” I ask quietly. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You? You’re asking if you did something wrong?”

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