Seizure

Another short tale, based off of unfortunately true events...again.

Written by A Humble Reader

Note: It...it happened again. It was, again, incredibly terrifying. And just like last time...I froze. I've started trying to learn how to handle the situation when someone beside you suddenly suffers from a seizure. If there is ever a third chapter (and let's hope there's not ever a need for one) then maybe that will be the time I manage to move.

Done. She put the pencil down and sighed. That...had been exhausting. But, four hours and twenty-five minutes later, she was done. ACT numero uno, complete. Out of the way. Finito. Done.

And, she finished all of the sections. Hells yes. Totally aced English and Reading, so-so on Math, Science...well, she was pretty sure she did okay on science. It took her a little bit, but she got the hang of the charts and graphs and how to read them. Mostly.

She laid down her pencil and took off her glasses and folded up her arms as a convenient pillow. Done with the essay, and five minutes to spare. She knew for a fact that she had to have aced that essay. There was no way she didn't!

The teacher called time so she sat up in her chair again, watching the woman with half-lidded eyes and a kind of satisfied contentment with how the test went. Her tummy was growling, though. If only she hadn't thrown away that muffin-

Her head shot to the right when she heard the clatter. As if in slow motion, the girl in the desk beside her fell out of her chair onto the floor.

It was quiet.

In the seconds before the teacher threw down her papers and moved to help the girl, it was silent. It seemed as though the world were holding its breath. And she noticed things.

She had fallen towards her, but was facing away from her. She was almost in a fetal position, and her feet were an ugly purple. Suddenly ragged breathing cut through the silence like a knife- her hair was splayed around her head like a messy brown halo, and her body shook lightly.

Time started moving again.

The teacher rushed over to her side and looked at her, shaking her shoulders lightly. Suddenly the girl was convulsing, but the only thing she did was think it's happening again.

The teacher immediately backed off, looking lost. A few seconds later it stopped, and she hesitantly touched her shoulder again. Someone suggested they give her room, and the lady spread out her hands, urging the students to move their desks away.

She ran into the hall to get help from the other teachers, and eventually in there were three of them. One was in the hallway, and she could hear her voice drift in, calm and steady.

"...rk High School, yes. Yes, we were testing and she fell out of her chair; I was told they think she had a seizure. Of course, yes- the second floor, room 230. Yes, alright. Thank you. Yes, yes -"

The first teacher, the one that did her testing, was in front of the girl, talking to her, making sure she was okay. She knew her name, where she was...but underneath all of their words, it was silent.

She just watched. Stared, really. At one point, she had half gotten out of her seat, wanting to help...but she was frozen, rooted to the spot. One knee was in the chair, and her hand gripped the back fiercely while her other leg wobbled on the floor. She had even muttered that maybe they should call an ambulance...but they quickly took care of it.

She didn't even have her phone. She had left in the car, as per the rules.

Something cruel in the back of her mind whispered that she couldn't do anything to help even if she had tried...and she hadn't even tried.

Amidst the chaos, some of the other teachers that had come in finished taking up the tests and students quickly filed out of the room.

She was one of the last to get up, and lingered near the doorway, watching the girl and the teacher, wanting to ask if she was gonna be okay. It was a pointless question, really; the teacher didn't know. Maybe she could do something to help?

And what would that be? Nothing. She'd just get in the way once the paramedics arrived. She watched silently (always so quiet - there wasn't even any chatter from the halls that was loud enough to reach the room) as another student came up and began talking to the victim.

"Do you know her?" The teacher asked him. The boy squatted down and tilted his head to look at her, a thoughtful frown on his face.

"Yeah, we have a lot of classes together." After a moment where he seemed to be thinking, he addressed the girl lying prone on the floor. "You'll be okay, don't worry." And he sent her the most disarming, heart-breaking smile she had ever seen in her life.

She felt something inside her chest squeeze, and break. Her stomach was in her throat. She felt like she might throw up. She needed to get away from there.

Quickly, quietly, she left the room and stumbled her way down the steps. When she finally managed to escape the throng of bodies in the lobby to reach the front steps, she took a deep breath. She noticed someone from her school there, waiting for her ride home. Slowly, she wandered over.

They talked for a few moments, but suddenly there was the blare of sirens in the distance.

Her stomach performed an entire ballet.

She quickly explained to her friend (acquaintance, really; they only shared one class) about what had happened, and tried to keep the waver out of her voice. She then excused herself to leave and made to cross the parking lot. Before she could, however, an ambulance came screeching to a halt a few feet further down the sidewalk. She watched, quiet, as three men quickly hopped out, grabbed a large duffle bag, and hurried into the school.

Without a word, she turned away and made her way towards her car. Before she got there, however, her footsteps slowed and pattered to a stop. She was an arm's length away from a group of blondes wondering if there had been a fire in the building.

Not knowing what she was doing, or why she was doing it, she turned to face them.

"Uhm...someone had a seizure, at the end of testing. The teacher was taking up the tests. She just...fell over. She seemed okay though; she was talking when..." When I left, ran away like a coward, ran as fast as I could as far away from that terrifying situation as possible I don't ever want to be in that place again- "When I last saw her."

They gasped at the right times, made the appropriate remarks and worried comments.

She walked away and didn't say another word.

When she reached her car she stood there, fumbling for the keys, slowly getting more and more frustrated with herself. She stopped for a moment, and walked to the back of the car.

She chose to stare at the silver face decorating the door to the trunk, her keys dangling quietly in her hands. Finally, she unlocked the car and moved back to the front, stepping in and shutting the door softly.

Suddenly she was gripping the wheel, her knuckles white, her faced scrunched up and turning red and puffy with unshed tears.

"Treads." She whispered. Oh god. "It happened again. Remember last time? At work. It happened again." She made a strangled choking noise, her arms shaking and only just holding back the tears. Her eyes stared out the windshield, but she wasn't seeing anything.

"Look at me." She bit out. The statement was punctuated by a noisy sniffle, and she released her death grip on the steering wheel to wipe at her face with one hand. "I'm not even the one who had the seizure, Treads! But I just...I left. She had a seizure and I just waltzed out..." I didn't try to help, didn't do anything, just sat there and stared as if it were some sort of show- Finally the damn broke, and clear droplets marked paths down her cheeks.

After a few minutes of crying and guilty blubbering to her car, she regained her composure and patted the steering wheel fondly, still sniffling, and with her face still a little red.

"Thanks for listening, Treads. I needed it."

She drove home in silence, for the most part, occasionally making a remark or humming part of some song, but otherwise kept it together until she reached her house.

After closing the door, locking the car, and giving the Autobot symbol she had stuck on the back last Christmas a thankful, friendly pat, she headed inside to talk to her parents and then go and cuddle with her transformers to end her harrowing morning and get ahold of things again. Too many emotions, but if she had just one more good cry, she felt like she'd be on top of things again.

Only when it was absolutely certain that the girl had gone inside did Autobot Treads take the opportunity to sink down on his axels and release a short burst of static from his speakers in exasperation.

The poor kid seemed to have rotten luck. It wasn't any trouble for him to listen to her, (not that he really had a choice either way) since she didn't have breakdowns all that often. Pretty rare for her age group, actually. (Or so his sources said.) But it was certainly a lesson in patience. (And in trying to understand how squishies and their little organic proccesors worked.)

Only Primus knew why Optimus had assigned him to this little family of troublemakers, and only Unicron knew how much trouble they really got up to, but he supposed, if asked, he'd have to say it was all worth it. His little squishy, he thought, must of been one of kind.

...And if Sides ever heard about him letting the little organic cry her eyes out in his interior, he was never going to hear the end of it.

Honing his scanners in on her bedroom again, Treads listened to the soft sniffles and a quiet "It was horrible..." That was quickly followed by more of the same blubbering he'd received on the drive home.

...Maybe he could deal with a little embarrassment, just this once.

Note: Yeah. So...I needed some way to tie it into Transformers again, and I didn't cry at Optimus (as much) this time around, but I did have a bit of trouble on the way home. Now, my car isn't really an Autobot (as far as I'm aware) but he's certainly a useful sounding board for emotions and fun ideas. Thanks for reading. Hopefully, you won't be hearing from this story again.

Sincerely yours,

A Humble Reader.