I severly doubted how time consuming my senior year would be. I tried to write for this past month, but I had to dedicate most of my time to writing my college application essays. However, I am so sorry for not making the time sooner.

A happy update though: I got a puppy! His name is Paul Anka, and he's a polish lowland sheepdog. He is so fucking cute I want to cry.

A special thanks to Alanna, Brittney, Brianna, and Alyson for making Saturday bearable.

I hope you enjoy!

- Bella xoxo

xxx

It was Emmett who led me to my photography this time rather than Alice, my designated tour guide. They explained it had something to do with his class being closer, but I really wasn't paying attention. From the moment the bell rang, everything around me became unfocused, and Emmett's light conversation seemed to become more and more distant as we got closer and closer to the classroom.

For all the effort I put into getting accepted to Forks Academy, I never really thought about what I would do when I actually got here. I figured that maybe I could just bullshit my way through my photography class, but if I have learned anything from this day, it was that this school wasn't a place you could just breeze through. In order to graduate or not cause concern amongst the administration, I would actually have to try. And that includes my photography class.

I didn't know what to do. Hell, my camera was still in my locker, and my mouth seemed to not be able to move to ask Emmett if we could go grab it.

Emmett announced our arrival far too early, and as he waved me off, I was tempted to grab him and never let go. I wanted to beg for him to get me out of here, to take me anywhere but this place. I would prefer my awful nightmares at this point. But if he could sense my fear, he ignored it and turned to head to class happily.

As I watched his retreating figure, full panic began setting in. I tried to control it—to ground myself—that is what my therapist always said. She always said bullshit things like that. "Just breathe" she would tell me, as if air could enter my lungs. Sometimes I think I'm going to die from asphyxiation, like right now. Because as more and more students crowded in, their wave of voices washed over me, acting as a stimulant to my panic.

My chest began feeling tight, like someone decided to sit on it, causing my breathing to become ragged. A heavy weight falls on my shoulders, and I wonder for a second if I am truly being suffocated.

I'm barely aware when the class has started, the only signal is silence that finally falls on the classroom. Despite what I thought before, the noise was actually better, at least the students couldn't hear my ragged breaths.

As class began with the teacher beginning her lecture, the students around me kept giving me worried glances. That's when I realized that I was still standing by the door while everyone else took a seat. And as I looked at my classmates, I have never felt so insane. I didn't know what to do.

Panic attacks aren't anything new to me, I even have medication to help them, but they are still inevitable and very hard to manage. Like right now. Usually, I would curl up in a ball on the floor, but that didn't seem like acceptable social protocol. Being new is weird enough. I also would take medication, but I forgot my take-as-needed pills at home, which means I have no fucking idea what to do.

As I breifly contemplated what the fuck I was going to do, the teacher, who I swore was lecturing the class only a second ago, began talking to me.

"In or out?" she asked. "I don't have all day."

I wanted to respond, but I couldn't, the words just wouldn't come out. Instead, I silently plead with my eyes, hoping they conveyed the desperation I felt.

And then I heard it.

A girl, with flaming red hair and bright green eyes, leaned forward to a blond boy in front of her. Her voice attempted a whisper, but in such a quiet classroom, everyone could hear.

"That's Renee Platt's daughter, the actress who killed herself. Rumor is, she's just as crazy as her mom."

And as the blond boy chuckled in response, I knew that was my breaking point.

As quickly as I could, I turned and ran from the classroom, blindly running to wherever would take me as far away from that class and those people as possible.

Somehow, I ended up on the tenth story of the building, no small feat considering I was on the second. I gasped at the top of the stairs., desperately trying to fill my lungs with air despite this being the first time I felt like I could actually breathe today.

The hall was empty and quiet, except for the lone sound of a piano that came from the end of the long hallway. I mindlessly followed the sound of the music, an intricate peace with much emotion and passion. It was the kind of composition that didn't allow you to think of anything but the piece, something that I was thankful for at the moment.

When I finally found the correct door, a large glass one, I leaned against it gently, sliding down until I was sitting. As I leaned my head against the glass, I found the music washing a sense of calm over me.

It was so intricate and beautiful that I swore I could see it when I closed my eyes. I could see the pain of the song as it began growing higher and higher, and I also felt the relief of the fall, when there was nowhere else to go but down.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, it could have been minutes or hours, but I do know that during this time I fell asleep in a calm and peaceful sleep, something that I haven't experienced in a long time. It was too bad that I was awoken so abruptly by the door pushing against my back.

Startled, I jumped to my feet quickly to let whoever was on the other side to exit. Whoever it was was not happy about my presence because they pushed the door roughly, cursing under their breath.

The piano player, apparently a boy around my age, stopped mid-curse when he noticed me. He was attractive, very much so, to the point that it was distracting. He had a full head of intricately messy copper hair, and eyes so green they could be compared to emeralds. He was tall enough that I had crain my head back in order to fully see his face, and his build was extremely pronounced under his black t-shirt with a band logo that I couldn't recognize. He had long legs that wore a pair of baggy jeans that partly hid his converse. Despite his messy, disorganized look, I somehow knew that this boy came from money. But it wasn't all this that ended up drawing my attention, in fact this all came second when I noticed the angry expression on his face.

I was going to apologize profusely for blocking the door, which I didn't actually think was a big deal, when he began talking to me.

"You know it's considered rude to eavesdrop on a person," he half-yelled. "Next time, mind your own business."

And with a quick run of his hand through his messy hair, he pushed past me, walking down the stairs, leaving me alone, confused, and a bit sad.

xxx

Hey!

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I tried my best at properly explaining the feeling of a panic attacks, but some things are impossible to put into words.

This week I have been listening to December by Neck Deep; it's a good song to yell and cry too ;).

I'll see you in the next chapter!

-Bella xoxo