Breathe.
It was a trick her ex-boyfriend had taught her.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Coming back to his teaching, people thought it was absurd how she gave her ex-boyfriend credit where it was due. She’d given up trying to prove to people that she isn’t lying. She never understood why people didn’t believe her when she said that he taught her how to breathe. Fuck believing, they didn’t even listen to her when she mentioned it. Or so she thought.
Why is it so hard to believe?
She knows, she knows breathing is a natural trait and nobody teaches you how to do it; but come to think of it, how many times have you struggled to breathe? How many times has your brain gone numb when all it had to do was to signal the lungs to breathe in and breathe out?
Then how did he get her to breathe?
Or better yet; why did her brain stop breathing?
A normal day for you might be a disaster for someone or the best day of their lives for somebody else. What was it for her?
A normal day.
The weather wasn’t perfect and she wasn’t inside.
A rainy day and she was out with no umbrella. But it didn’t seem to matter to her. She walked unbothered. I mean, the rain bothered her, of course, mentally; she was unbothered.
She thought it was a normal day; she didn’t know just how wrong she was. She didn’t use the rain as an excuse for crying, or to dance, but she did use it as an excuse to get pneumonia.
The thing about dreams, goals, health; life in general, is that it’s full of surprises.
Of course, she was willing to drench herself in the rain just to get pneumonia. But she forgot about life and its surprises.
She passed out in the rain and awakens in the hospital room. Sitting on her right was her boyfriend and on the left her ex. Both of them wait patiently for her to start talking.
The first thing she says is, ‘Pneumonia?’
Her boyfriend intertwines their fingers and smiles his shiny smile, ‘No, you were lucky to avoid that.’
Her brows furrow and she tries to say something but her heart starts pacing and her breathing hitches. Her face; a panicked wreck, her hands shining and her body convulsing.
Her boyfriend rushes out, scared and frantic to find a doctor or a nurse. The ex just sits there; calm and composed.
He stretches his arm out and slowly starts to brush his hand over her forehead.
‘Breathe.’
‘Slow and steady.’
‘Just breathe.’
‘I’m right here.’
And that’s when her breathing slowed down and then stopped.
She took in the peace and her body fell numb.
Now she stands in the middle of the living room, trying to tell her parents that her ex-boyfriend saved her, taught her how to breathe, but not once did they glance at her.
They walked past her like she didn’t exist.
Anymore.
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| Taken from Google Images |
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