Page 53 of Our Little Moments

I’m dying. I’m having a heart attack and I’m dying.

My legs fall out, and I crumble to the floor.

Even with my rapid breathing, I can’t seem to get enough oxygen into my lungs. I can’t hear anything over my racing heart. For all I know, there could be a tornado next to me.

Calm down. I need to calm down.

I try to take in bigger inhales, but they’re cut short every time.

Am I dying? I can’t die.

“Shit. Stella!” a familiar voice calls from behind me, but I can’t recognize it for the life of me.

It’s when I see her blonde hair and worried green eyes that I recognize her.Hazel.

Her warm hands cradle mine. “Name five things you can see.”

What? How does she want me to name things I can see? I can’t even breathe!

“I see you and trees and a pale blue sky. What do you see?” Her gentle voice rings in my ears with the rapid beat of my heart.

I’m dying.

“Umm,” I gasp heavily as my eyes search my surroundings. “You. The sun.” I try to take in a deep breath and fail again. “Umm, trees and dirt and rocks,” I rush out.

“Great. You’re doing great, Stella. What are four things you can touch?”

What the hell is she asking me to do? Just name things?

My rapid heart rate can’t calm down!

I can’t breathe!

“Stella. What are four things you can touch?” she presses on.

“Umm, your hands, the ground, a tree and its roots,” I rush out again to try to breathe.

“Great.” She holds my hand tighter. “Now name three things you can hear.”

I try to take a deep breath, but it’s cut short. Again.

“Umm. Y-your voice. My heartbeat.” I try my best to hear anything else over my racing heart.

My heavy breathing fills the silence. I fight with everything I have to hear the outside world.

A rush of water fills my ears, but it sounds so far away.

That doesn’t matter. All that matters is I hear something over my breathing.

I look back at Hazel, who has a small smile on her lips. It’s then I realize my heartbeat is calming down.

This is getting better. You can fix it.

“And . . . the water’s current.”

“Awesome. You’re almost there, Stella.” Her thumb brushes over my hand.

This time, when I take a deep breath, it flows easier. Still difficult, but better.

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