{ i. she was only twelve. }

It's three A.M. and he can't sleep. There's in aching in his chest that he can
only define as guilt slowly gnawing through his body.

It started at his legs. He willed them to move forward, but they wouldn't listen.
Pale, shielded by flimsy turqoise cloth, they stood stock still, immune to the 
commands and pleads sent from his cerebrum. He looked ridiculous,
blocking people's path, especially in a hospital. Patients sent him looks of 
derision and irritation, while staff glanced with pity before hurrying on to tend
to their own jobs. Slowly, Sehun felt himself propelling foward, thankfully. He
arrived at the door of his next patient, who sat in discontent on her bed. 
"What took you so long?" she grumbled impatiently. He muttered a quick 
excuse followed by an apology, subsequently giving her her medication.

Next to be rendered useless was his hands. He was speaking to his 
professor when the latter pointed it out.

"Mr. Oh," she started, raising a defined eyebrow, "are you all right? 
Your hands have been trembling for quite awhile now."

Sehun lifted his hands, and discovered that no matter how hard he tried,
they wouldn't stop their incessant shaking. When he looked back up, 
written on his senior's face was an expression of sympathy. She patted 
his shoulder.

"Hey, maybe you should take the rest of the day off. It's not that busy 
this time of month anyway." That was true, but what she meant was
apparent. You aren't fit to work here, and you're probably going to get
fired soon. We're going to let you stew for awhile before doing the deed. 
He felt a vehement force rising in the pit of his stomach, reaching the
base of his throat in a second. Sehun nodded thanks, and slinked off to
his dorm.

Now, a few hours after the hands incident, a weight sits on Sehun's
chest like an anchor. His chest rises and falls rapidly, uncontrollable, out
of reach. He gets up, because enough is enough, he thinks, fingers curling
around the strawberry-patterned blanket, only to find his lungs empty and
void of air. Sehun struggles, eyes growing wider until he believes he's
going to faint from oxygen deprivation, and that's when it all comes back.
He barely manages to hold himself up from the sudden gasp of wind 
that returns. 

Sehun reaches out to the telephone on his desk, which thankfully isn't too
far away, and calls the one person he knows can help. His fingers quiver 
while pressing down on the buttons. 

Ring. Pick up.

Ring. Please pick up.

Ring. Please.

"Hello?" Thank god.

"Luhan? It's—It's Sehun. Could you come over to my dorm? I can't—I can't
do this anymore."

Luhan responds immediately, sensing the urgency in Sehun's voice. "Yeah,
of course. I'll see you in five."