Panic In The Streets ((Chase))

Breathing hard, a seventeen-year-old girl was leaning against the wall, clutching her side. No..not now. Please not now. Had this been any other girl, the scene would have been a part of a nightmare, something that that person could wake up for. But for Chloë Angor, the pain was about as real as it got. Her breathing was uneven, the upper part of her belly was in pain, and there was no one in sight. How did I get here? How did I even get to this point? Cringing, Chloë shrank down against the wall, trying to get into a sitting position to alleviate the pain. Her eyes were filled with pain as she tried to shift and failed. I can’t…can’t move.

It was only an hour ago that the girl had decided to go back home alone. Her father was most likely at work, her step-mother roaming around the district, and her brother decided to stay in school for a bit longer. Chloë left early, deciding that it would be better for her to be home rather than linger and wait for her kid brother. After all, Nanos had a tendency to stay a really long time when Chloë let him. Most importantly, Chloë didn’t think that one of her anxiety attacks would act up on the way home. She had been doing so well in not launching into a freaking out moment that she forgot about how easily one of them could be triggered if she was alone. Well, now she was sitting against a wall, waiting for the pain to pass.

The anxiety attack was never the worst part; it was always the pain that seemed to incapacitate Chloë. It had always been the case for Chloë, the sickly child of District 12. Over the years, growing faint seem to have taken over the attacks due to her choice not to eat. However, the attacks were never really gone. And even once the “freaking out” moment had passed, the sharp pain that always accompanied it would find a way to linger for at least a good thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of sitting here. I can’t do that. It just won’t work! What am I supposed to do? Go back? Go home? Stay here? Wait for someone? Anyone? And just by thoughts, Chloë found herself clutching her side even more.

Her father had instated a rule that Chloë was to never be in the streets alone, not really for concern of any strange wandering men who might try to attack her but rather for fear that Chloë would be alone when an anxiety attack struck. Apparently, her father was more right than Chloë had ever thought. She did comply with the rule for the sake of her father’s well-being, but after many years of not being able to walk the streets of District 12 alone, Chloë just wanted to know what it was like to step outside on her own. What a stupid mistake! He was right all along. I can’t do this. No…no..

Another jab of pain stabbed at Chloë as she appeared as a useless heap on the ground. Any passerby would have thought that she was one of the Seam residents or insane. Those who recognised her would frown in disapproval; they always did. There was always something wrong with her: her hair was not the right colour, her eyes did not belong, she looked too sick, she was born in the wrong family, she caused her mother’s death…the list went on and on. With pain, Chloë remembered when one rumour had spread that her mother had an affair with a man outside of District 12 and Chloë was a result. At the memory, her right arm clutched her stomach tighter while the left arm circled around her knees. Quickly, she rocked herself back and forth, reminding herself to breathe in and out.

What was it that Akis had told her to do? The arm around her knees loosened its grip. Instead of simply curling up, Chloë’s fingers started to search for something she could use to console herself. Her head was still on her knees as she tried to control her breathing, but her arm was outstretched. Dirt…rock…coal…anything… Finally, Chloë grasped onto a section of mud that had been slightly hardened. Without hesitating, the fingers on her left hand started to play with it, calming Chloë down gradually. As the motion started to bring Chloë back to a regular state, her body loosened against the wall, but the arm remained. The pain would take a while to go away, but at least she was no longer worsening it by going out of her mind.

Sighing, Chloë leaned against the wall supporting her, neglecting the dirt and grime that accumulated over the years. She never did like her anxiety attacks, and if she hadn’t found that bit of mud, she had a good feeling that she would have been on the ground and convulsing in no time. The attacks had never reached the point that she was near death, but they had always been strong and sudden, something Chloë still had not gotten used to. It was no simple matter, but then again, what was? Lying limp, Chloë hoped that no one would approach her, not then. She did not need anyone to see her in her current state.