Idina awakes, gasping. She throws off the covers and scrambles out of bed. Panic courses through her as she all but sprints to the living room. Still a room. Still trapped inside a building. But open enough for now. She paces back and forth as words flow through her head. Idiot. Stupid. Fat. Weak. Ugly. Horrible. Worthless. Trapped. She runs both hands into her hair and grasps tightly for something to hold on to. She feels the tension at her scalp, followed by pain as her back arches and her arms stretch further. The feelings flow through her, the emotion, the hurt, the pain, the hate, all desperate for a way to escape. Her breath comes in short, halting gasps as she fights to remain in control. The room spins and she stumbles to the couch. Her legs give out and she falls onto it. Bending in half, she holds onto her head as her breathing slows and the panic ebbs. She sees her phone light up on the side table. She reaches for it and sees a message from James. "Hey Idina. Just wanted to make sure you were okay after tonight. Thinking of you. -James" She resists the urge to throw the phone across the room, hating that he noticed, hating she let someone see, hating she can't trust herself to talk to anyone, and more than anything else, hating how far she's fallen.