You know that sick feeling you get when you know nobody you love understands? Understands...that... None of us can breathe here. It's so suffocating,and I hate it. This family,/families/ like mine. It's like my ribcage is being shattered,and I feel sick,and nervous. My breathing is heavy. I must be using up so much oxygen right now. I don't deserve to /live/. I hate myself so much. It hurts. God,it hurts. I can't even see anything,all I know is that I'm on my knees,clutching my chest. It's not even the fact that I have mild asthma. That's never been a problem. This...is purely mental. God,i belong in a hospital. My breathing gets even heavier as a feel myself be lifted off of the ground,and everything goes black. As my eyes open,a wave of confusion washes over me. Right. My name is...Leah. Leah Greene. I'm 16,I'm in the school nurse's office. My mother is probably coming to pick me up. I don't /want/ to see her,but /anywhere/ is better than school right now. I see the nurse, Ms. Smith come over. God,that woman is a lifesaver. They're they/them,closeted,but they've come out to me at least,since i accidentally told them my secret after a panic attack before this. Yes,I have panic attacks. "Honey?" I hear their soft voice and I want to cry. I wasn't crying that entire time. I rarely cry,even during my serious panic attacks like that one. "W-what?" I say,my voice shaking regaurdless of the sudden comfort at he- their presence. They sit on the edge of my bed,and look like they're about to hug me,then they withdraw,remembering i don't like to be touched without consent,and look at me,a question in their eyes. I nod,and they hug me. I'm surprised to see tears rolling onto her shoulder. "Your mother is coming soon to pick you up." They said,with all of the gentleness I /wish/ my mother had. "T-thank you,Ms. Smith." is all I manage to choke out.
So yeah. Leah Green. She's a sixteen-year-old girl,bisexual,and Ms. Smith. They/them,abroromantic asexual,Demigirl. Next: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/977120624
