“You should come!”

“No,” I laugh, “I’m really okay. I have a lot of stuff to catch up on.” I hang up the phone before she can reply. I would rather rip out every single one of my hairs individually than go to that party.

A small part of me feels bad.

Dread seeps it’s inky black presence into my mind.

Oh no.

My pulse quickens as shame twists it’s spiked tail around my legs, freezing me in my footsteps.

My heart beats in my ears.

“Stop-“ I choke out before guilts sharp, long, cold fingers dig into my neck.

I can’t breathe. I’m being consumed entirely. My vision flickers in and out of focus as I brace myself on the wall.

You should go. Scratches out the dread covering my eyes.

You’re a horrible friend.

Growls shame.

You can’t escape what you’ve done.

Guilt scratches down my spine and neck.

“Please-“ I whisper. Hot tears covering my cheeks. “I don’t want to go.”

My breathing speeds up and my vision wavers.

I’m choking.

It feels like my chest has a weight on top of it. My head pounds with my heart beat. My throat constricts till I can’t even breathe.

I stumble towards the phone, sheer pain blaring in my head at the movement. I call her back.

“Actually I think I can come now.” As I speak the words shame and dread seep from my skull.

Guilt squeezes my throat one more time before settling in my head as a raging headache.

God I really don’t want to go to this party.

Notes:

I have severe fomo and this is what it’s like for me Tehe 🎀🎀🎀 I’m literaly just a girl