Page 8 of If the Stars Align
But a bolt of lightning pierces the sky.
The rain’s still coming down like crazy.
I’m trapped in here. My vision’s hazy?—
Shit…I’m doing it again…
When I panic, I tend to rhyme in my head.
It helps slow down my racing mind.
If only it wouldfuckingwork this time!
People take one look at me and think my life is perfect.
They have no damn clue what goes on beneath the surface.
But what if I start rhyming out loud one day?
Will people laugh at me? Judge me? Call me insane?
Don’t go there, Ollie. You’re spiraling.
I rush up the stairs and head toward my bedroom. But my squeaky door hinge is so goddamn loud, my parents start stirring. “Is that you, Dex?”
“Yup, sorry to wake you! Just going to sleep.” I sound cool, calm, and confident.
I really am a pro at this act.
But Ihatethese fucking panic attacks.
They started months after my mom came home from the hospital. I never felt anxious when Sunny was over, but when she was gone? Now that was another story. I refused to leave my mom’s side. If she left my sight, I was scared to death. One or two nights a week, I’d wake up screaming.
One night I dreamed that a ghost stole the baby from my arms. When my mom came in to comfort me, I asked where my sister was.
“I like to think she’s a star in the sky, watching over us. And maybe when we see a flicker, we’ll know she’s there.”
A star in the sky.I liked that idea. But for some reason I started to sob.
My parents took me to see a psychologist. I remember drawing pictures. Mom with a big belly, smiling. Mom with a smaller belly, sleeping. Me, alone and crying, my tears pooling in a puddle of blue crayon at my feet. Bright, beautiful Sunny in her yellowdress.
I overheard my parents talking about my therapy sessions one night when I was supposed to be sleeping. I didn’t understand most of what they said, but the phrase “separation anxiety” became embedded in my head because they repeated it so many times.
But with Sunny, I was carefree. A normal, happy kid. We rode our bikes, and played hopscotch and hide and seek, and I never, not once, felt a tinge of anxiety. We went camping together under the stars, and it was the soundest I ever slept, with Sunny by my side.
My heart rate’s slowing down.
I put my hand on my stomach and take a deep breath. Maybe this panic attack is over. I get off the floor and look outside my window. The rain’s coming down even harder than before.
It’s like the heavens are crying because I had sex with Jenna.
I made such a stupid mistake last night.
It’s starting again—my chest is tight.
The room is spinning. I sit on my bed.
I dig through a box that’s near my nightstand.
