Page 15 of Fixing Emilee

“Emilee, are you in here?” the person asks. I let the air out, my legs drop to the ground, and my muscles relax. I’m really struggling to breathe as my lungs scream at me for holding my breath. It’s Tiffani.

I swear she is an angel. I don’t know how she knew I was here, but relief floods my system knowing she found me. I can’t do this alone; I know she will help me however she can. My arms shake as I push myself off the floor. I don’t believe my legs will hold me long as they feel like they are made of jello. I stumble toward the door, unlock it, and push it open. “Here,” I whisper. My back hits the wall, and I slide down, landing again on the floor. Her eyes move quickly over all my items on the floor, up my legs, and zero in on the paperclip I still hold in my left hand. She launches herself forward, squatting between my open legs.

Slowly, as if she is afraid to scare me, she reaches down, pulls it from my hand, throws it behind her somewhere, and turns my wrist to her face. “I didn’t… I stopped… I promise,” I whisper as tears start falling down my face.

“I know, sweetie. I know you wouldn’t do that anymore.” Moving her hands away from my wrist, she pulls me into her. “What can I do, Emilee? What do you need from me?” She asks, concern lacing her words. We are slowly rocking side to side, and while I’m feeling a little bit calmer, I still can’t breathe, and only one person can help me.

“Levi, I need Levi.” My voice shakes with fear.

Moving, so she is beside me, putting her arms around my waist and helping me stand. It takes a minute until my legs feel stable enough to hold me, but she never says anything to rush me. The room isn’t wide enough for us to walk side by side, so she settles in behind me with her arms wrapped around me. It’s awkward, but I won’t reach the door without her strength. We leave behind the mess, and I panic for a second about someone finding my journal, but the pain in my chest keeps me from giving a rat’s ass. Once we are out of the bathroom, we move side by side. We don’t even make it one step down the hallway when I run into someone. I’m not looking anywhere but the floor, so all I see are their shoes.

We stumble back, but Tiffani doesn’t let me fall as my body weakens the longer I stand here, with no air coming through my nose. “What the fuck are you staring at?” Tiffani snarls at the person we just ran into.

That piques my interest because she should be apologizing. But then the person answers, and all worries about politeness rush away. “What’s wrong with her?”

My blood runs cold, the invisible cord around my chest tightens, and I shrink away from the voice. I know the owner: Christian. Slowly moving my gaze up off the floor, I see blue jeans and a white polo shirt. He’s moving toward me, holding his hands up like he means no harm, but I know better.

“No, no, no,” I start to whisper, and once again, take a step back. Tiffani locks her arms around my waist, pulling me back to her. Leaning down, she whispers so low that I almost miss it.

“Don’t show him any fear. I won’t let him hurt you.” She pulls us forward, sneering at him, “None of your fucking business.” She pulls me to the left, trying to head around him, but he grabs my arm, tossing it over his shoulder, taking most of my weight off her. She tries to pull me out of his grasp, but he’s stronger than her. “Get your goddamn hands off her before I break them. You aren’t supposed to be around her, and you definitely aren’t supposed to be touching her,” she yells when he doesn’t let go.

Their fighting fades into nothing as my racing heart fills my ears. My skin crawls where it touches his, and the urge to rip his hands off me is strong, but my vision is getting fuzzier. There is a blackness around the edges, and it’s growing bigger. Soon it will take over, and I will pass out from the lack of oxygen. That worry worsens my anxiety, and a sharp pain shoots through my chest. I let out a groan. “Levi,” I turn, pleading to Tiffani. I need my brother.

“I’m not going to hurt her, Tiffani. I just want to help. Something is seriously wrong.” He shifts me, making another sharp pain cross my chest. His hold on my hip is so tight it’s going to bruise.

“Tif…” Another groan leaves me.

“Fuck. Okay, Em. Come on, sweetie. Try to focus on anything besides what’s happening now. Hold on just a little bit longer,” she says to me, pulling me back to her. She shoots Christian a go to hell look before saying, “It’s your fucking funeral, but don’t ever say I didn’t warn you. You better hope he doesn’t see you, because if he does, I’m not stopping him from murdering your ass.”

Finally, we start moving down the hallway. My focus shifts from one thing to another as I try so damn hard to get some air into my lungs, but to no avail. We turn the corner. The door to Levi’s class is just a few steps away, but I can’t go anymore. “Tif, I can’t,” I say.

“Okay. Let’s sit her here.” She and Christian place my back against the wall, and I slide to the floor. Once my ass is safely on the ground, I pull my legs up and hang my head between them.

“Go get Levi now,” Christian yells at her, and I hear her footsteps retreating away. Closing my eyes, I try to picture myself anywhere but here, all alone with Christian. I’ve been struggling to get air into my lungs for so long that I must be close to passing out. How long can a body go without air before the darkness takes over? He must squat in front of me because his hands touch my face, raise my head, and his eyes are now level with mine. Out of habit, I pull my head back out of his hand with all the strength I have, only to end up hitting it hard on the wall.

“Emilee, try to take some really deep breaths. You can do it…” His voice cuts off before he can finish his sentence. With no strength left, my head falls back down between my knees. As it does, I see someone standing with their back to me, their forearm against his neck, pinning him to the wall.

“What the fuck are you doing with her? What have you fucking done? I told you, you mother fucker…” The sound fades again, but this time I know the end is here. My vision is entirely black, and the pain in my chest is constant. This is it. Weeks ago, I wanted to die, I was ready to leave this world behind and had accepted my fate, and now it’s finally going to happen. I’m going to die sitting in this fucking hallway from a heart attack. A heart attack that was brought on because I’m still in love with an asshole. The knowledge that death is here doesn’t bring me peace anymore. I don’t want to die today. I’m not ready to let go. I have so much I want to experience, and being placed in a pine box isn’t one of them.

Everyone says that your life flashes before your eyes when you die, but all I see is him. The reason for my panic attack and what will ultimately lead to my death is Parker. Since I’m dying, I might as well be honest with myself. I’m so fucking in love with him that it will kill me. He stole my whole fucking heart and still holds it captive. God, please don’t take me, I plead. I can’t leave now.

“Sissy…” Levi’s voice cuts through my morbid thoughts. “Open your eyes, sissy.” My eyelids feel so fucking heavy, but I push them open. The only thing I can focus on is his face. Lurching forward, I grasp his shirt in my hands. “Breathe, you are going to be fine, I promise you. Here, focus on this,” he says as he puts something into my ears. The first notes of “Still Breathing" by Citizen Soldier start playing. He takes my hand, pulls his shirt from it, and places it palm down over his heart. Closing my eyes, I lose myself in the music and focus on the movement of his chest under my palm. As the song repeats for the third time, my heartbeat is back to normal, the air is coming quickly through my nose, and the pressure in my chest is gone. Slowly I pull my hand from Levi’s chest, taking the earphones out.

My eyes are still closed, but the sound level around me makes me throw them open instantly. The lights in the hallway blind me, so I shield my eyes with my hands. Levi is still sitting right in front of me, looking nowhere but my face. Behind him, Christian is leaning against the wall with blood pouring out of his nose. A teacher is standing beside him. “Here, use this tissue and tip your head back to help,” she says, taking the bloody one from him. Did Tif do that? Go, girl.

Tiffani is beside him talking to another teacher, “He signed an agreement to not touch her, but he did instead. He got what he deserves. I don’t understand why he…” she is talking animatedly, her hands moving wildly but is cut off by the teacher holding the bloody tissue.

“That doesn’t matter, Violence isn’t the answer.”

I’m about to ask what the hell is going on when someone calls my name, stopping me. “Emilee, are you okay?”

Turning to see who is speaking to me, Mr. Clark, the principal, stands with his arms crossed. Beside him is an EMT with a bag slung over his shoulder. I groan, leaning my head back. Fuck me.

“I am now. What is going on?” I motion to the chaos around me.

Mr. Clark just waves his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s focus on you. We need to make sure you are actually okay. Let’s get you checked out and headed to the hospital for them to look at you,” he says. Panic starts to course through me again because I don’t want to go to the hospital. Putting my hands beneath me, I begin to push myself up. Levi grabs my arms and helps me stand. My legs shake a little, so he doesn’t let go.

“No,” I scream out, not meaning to. I swallow, trying again, “No, it was a panic attack. I’ve had a few since I’ve been home. After it passes, I’m physically fine, just exhausted. Can’t you,” I point to the EMT, “just check my vitals here and then send me home?” I look at Levi. “Please,” I whisper. If they call my parents, I know they will side with me, but I have to get the school to call them.

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