Karma's a Bitch

*Shane’s POV*

My poor Mel… Shane thought.
He just rocked her shaking body back and forth, trying desperately to not only comfort her, but himself.
“When Jake… you know… it brought those memories back.” Mel said, quietly.
“I am so sorry, honey.” he whispered into her ear.
“I think I’m ready to get up now.” Mel said, lifting her head from his chest. She tapped his chest gently, a silent plea for him to let her go.
Reluctantly, he pulled away, but watch her closely.
I’m so sorry, Mel… He thought, sorrow clouding his eyes slightly.

*Mel’s POV*

My legs are shaking. I am such a wreck… She thought, a sliver or self-pity slipping through her defenses.
No! She thought.
“No!”
“No what?” Shane asked her.
Oops, I said that out loud.
“Oops, I said that out loud.”
“Yeah, you did.” Shane replied.
Mel’s eyes grew wide.
“I can’t say anything to myself!” She exclaimed.
“Stop being silly.” Shane reassured her.
But Mel was really worried about it, and her breathing became short.
Her shortness of breath scared her then, and before she could realize what was happening, she was having a panic attack.
“Shane!” She screamed, clasping at his shirt like a lifeline.
Around them, the room began to change.
The walls expanded.
The lockers all opened.
Books formed a pattern on the floor, stacked like dominoes.
Pens, pencils, and papers swirled around the room.
Binders and folders arranged themselves in every available space, stacked high upon one another.
Shane gazed wide-eyed about the room at the objects.
What the hell? He wondered.
Mel’s breathing grew more rapid, and the objects spun faster with each breath.
Finally, in a breath that was more of a sob, Mel’s panic attack ended.
Pencils, pens ,and papers dropped all about the room.
Stacks of folders and binders that reached to the roof tumbled over.
The domino-aligned books fell in chain reaction.
The walls seemed to breath a giant sigh, and an air fanned them as the walls deflated.
All the lockers slammed shut.
Shane stared at the floor, amazement written plainly in his eyes.
In the aftermath of Mel’s anxiety attack, all the objects actually spelled something.
“Watch it, Melinda, dear. You’re mine.”
“Mel?”
“I don’t know…”