(its really bad but its a wip)
“Night, Mom.”
12 year old Otis Hartford laid down in his bed as his mother exited the room. He rolled over to look at the clock, and happened to glance at the nature-themed calendar on his wall. August 12th… He rolled back over after he saw the time,9:58. He was about to go back to sleep, when suddenly, there was a screech of brakes outside.
“No…” Otis said, slowly sitting up. He jumped out of bed and ran for his bedroom door. He grabbed some jeans and a t-shirt and attempted to throw them on as he rushed out of the house. It was all unfolding before his eyes.
“J-Joy?” His 5 month old sister crawled between Otis’ legs. He was filled with, well, joy as he picked up his baby sister. He had a moment of great happiness, when he realized something. “Wait…just wait a second!” he said, almost dropping his little sister.
He ran inside,gripping young Joy in his arms. “No, Joy, we have to get you out of here!” Otis ran over to Joy’s nursery.
“Here-here you go, Joy. Stay here.” he said, lowering the baby into the crib. Otis breathed a sigh of relief as he wandered over to his room. A few minutes later, he looked out the window. He closed his eyes, happy that Joy was safe, when he heard a car honk, and a bawling baby. He got out of bed to go take care of his sister, when he found that her crib was empty.
“NO! Joy, Joy where are you?” He ran outside, still in his jeans and shirt from earlier. His sister was covered in cuts and smoke from the exhaust. The driver of the car that hit the baby called 911, and then rushed over to Otis. Otis ran inside, tears in his eyes. “Mom! Dad! Abe!” he yelled, running past the bedrooms.
“What is it, sweetie?” Otis’ mother asked as the other family members rushed out of their rooms. Suddenly, Otis got choked up and couldn't say anything. He motioned for his family to come outside.
“I am SO sorry, I didn’t see her. I will pay the fee for the funeral, and if there’s anything at all that I can do, just say so, please. I feel horrible,” the driver of the car said with tears in his eyes.“I’m so sorry, I really am, ma’am.” Otis’ older brother Abram didn’t know how to react. He wasn’t usually sentimental, but this was his sister who had just gotten almost killed by a driver. He knew what he wanted to do.
“IF YOU WERE SORRY, YOU WOULDN’T HAVE RUN OVER MY SISTER!” he yelled, violently slapping the man’s face, then running into the house, trying to hide his tears.
“I’m sorry, sir. He-he gets angry.” Otis’ father said, trying to explain.
“No, I’m sorry. I deserved it. I wasn’t paying attention, such a jerk I was,” the man said, holding the bruise that Abram’s callused hand had made. “If there’s ANY way I can make it up to you… I will. Here, here, take my wallet, I feel terrible.” The man reached into his leather wallet and handed 200 dollars to Mrs. Hartford. Meanwhile, Otis’ tears had been welling up in his eyes, and he couldn’t stand it. Otis went out back behind his house to the old willow tree that had been there since forever and tried his hardest to keep in his tears. He then went into anxiety mode. My sister, my only sister, who had done noting in this world, she didn’t even have an opportunity, was just hit by a truck. Gone. GONE FOREVER, he thought. He broke down in a panic. His heart throbbed. His breath stopped. He curled up into a ball. The tears came out like a waterfall. After almost ten solid minutes of horrible pain and tears, he felt a soft, gentle hand on his back.
“Otis? Otis, I’m here.” It was Anna, his neighbor and amazing friend. She sat next to Otis, put her arm around him, and her hand into his. “They took her to the hospital. We don’t know the chances.”
“I-I’m fine…I’m okay.” Otis said, still panicking. Anna looked skeptical.
“No, you’re not. Breathe.”she said, straightening herself.
“What?”
“You know what. Breathe.”
“I don’t need these stupid breathing exercises. I’m not a little kid.”
“Odie, I’m your friend. And as a friend, I need to be honest. You need help, and you refuse to go to therapy, so it’s either breathing, or talking to a stranger about personal stuff. What’ll it be?”
Otis sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Fine. But I won’t like it.”
“Okay. Breathe in, out, in out, in, out…”
Otis followed along reluctantly, and refused to admit that it actually helped. Tears were still coming, but he was no longer panicking.
“Thank you..” he mumbled.
Anna would usually make a remark, but this time was different.
“You’re welcome.” she said quietly.”Now, what’s wrong?” Otis obviously didn’t want to tell her.
“Nothing.”
“Otis…”
“Why am I like this? Why are these attacks part of me? Why..why am I so worthless?” he yelled out, his face burning.
“Why can I not control this? How come, when one problem ends, I get another one? I will never be useful in this world…” Otis asked himself.”I’m such a crybaby. I cry over everything, and I’m 12 years old. TWELVE! I’m worthless…”
“OTIS!” Anna near-yelled, looking him dead in the eye.“Stop. You are not useless. You have a purpose. These attacks are not part of you. There’s..there’s a pit in your soul. It’s been tearing you apart. That pit is the devil trying to get through to you. You need to be strong. You need to resist. I know you can do it, Otis, if you just believe. There’s nothing wrong with crying, or being sad. It’s just natural. And panic is hard. But when you let them control you, that’s when you need help. You have to let me help you, Otis. Let me help you, please.” Tears welled up in Otis’ eyes. He turned away and looked at the ground, wiping away his tears.
“Thank you.” he said,wiping away the tears that formed in his eyes. “Thank you for everything.”
Anna smiled as she hugged Otis.
“Y-You’re welcome.” she said. “Hey..I..I know how you feel.” she said with a soft, gentle, compassion in her voice.
(ITS A WIP, SORRY)