It felt like I couldn't breathe.

I started trembling and shaking.

I was breathing in ragged breaths but no matter what it felt like I was receiving none of that oxygen.

"Princess?" His voice seemed so distant even though his hands were on me.

I felt the shaking and I heard his calls but I could do nothing.

Somehow I blink and I'm sobbing but I've stopped trembling and started shaking involuntarily from sobs leaving my body.

It was no wonder I had refused to remember that night. If only my mind could've kept that memory locked up for the rest of my days.

I don't know how long it's been but it feels like hours.

Drew is consoling me as I scream out in pain.

I want to push him away but I know that he's somehow the only thing keeping my panic attack away yet keeping it just under the covers.

That poor damn boy. He didn't deserve that.

Once I have no more energy left to cry out in agony I push away from him and move to the opposite end of the van.

He looks at me completely confused before recognition crosses his face.

"I-I'm sorry." He looks down in shame.

He should be fûcking ashamed and he should feel guilty!

"How could you..." my voice is monotonous because after what just happened I feel as if I've exhausted all emotion from my body.

"I panicked. I was angry. I wish I could take it back." He rambles and I want to laugh. Not because it's funny but because he's stûpid to think I would believe that.

"You can't. You--" I stop myself before I drain every little ounce I have left on insults that's he's probably heard before.

I gather myself and I wipe the tears away.

I don't know at what point he had taken my blindfold off but it wasn't until I was wiping my eyes that I realized. I looked down to see it firmly gripped in his hand.

He looked pained and lost. He looked like he had a whole novel to say but had no voice.

"Take me home. Now." I need to get away from him as soon as possible.

He looks at me and without making eye contact I can just tell he's begging me to look at him.

To look at the regret and guilt in his irises.

But it's too damn late.

That boy was gone and he was never coming back.

Much like the girl he took the night of the party.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

Heyyyyyy, long time no update.

It's short. I just binge watched hours of slam poetry and so if this seems a bit too much that's why.

I really wanted to write and so I did. At 3am. While listening to ASMR.

Good night to me and good *insert time of day here* to you ❤️