22 Aug 2020, 22:31
Anxiety Attacks
@Henry Knight
Jax had never been a reader. He despised books with every little piece of his being, the words seeming heavy and awkward sticking to the roof of his mouth and in his chest. They were heavy. To say. To think, even. Sentences didn't make sense. Paragraphs were even worse. Give him a page full of text, and he gave up instantly.
But he'd read one book. And the main character had filled him with a vicious, violent rage. Her anxiety attacks were rarely portrayed well. The author had her standing in the middle of the room, clutching at her chest and repeating 'I can't breathe' over and over again. And the instant someone said 'It will be okay' or hugged said character, everything would magically become okay. She'd snap out of it instantly, and be immediately okay afterwards.
But no one ever talked about the ugly part of anxiety attacks. Lashing out at whoever got close, screaming and crying. Felling like the whole world was spinning out of control around you. It made people do things. Made them see things that weren't there, dragging irrational feelings to the surface, and maybe most importantly, made them feel weak. Worthless.
Yeah. Guess anxiety was only good when the love interest needed to seem nurturing.
And how exactly did that have anything to do with our little emo boy?
Well...
If one were to go to the small hall, and look VERY carefully behind one of the statues decorating it, they'd find him behind a huge bust of Salzar Slytherin, head between his knees. Clutched between his long fingers was a letter. More specifically, a letter informing him his sister had gotten engaged. And he'd missed it. He'd missed his sister's engagement. He'd been at hogwarts for exactly one week, and he'd already missed something. How. How was that possible. Was this going to be his life now? Away from his family, locked up in a huge school surrounded by strangers, trying to fit in an alien culture, with nothing but a sketchbook and the clothes on his back? And the rest of his family would go on living their lives as if he didn't exist. As if he didn't matter.
A small gasp escaped him as he felt the familiar tightness in his chest, throat closing up as he slid down the wall, white knuckled grip on the letter making his nails dig into his palm. From behind the bust, he could see the other students passing him by, chatting and laughing. Noise. There was so much noise at Hogwarts. It was overwhelming. Back at St. Gabriel's, it had been the same. Hundreds of kids breathing, and talking, and living all overtop one another. There was so little space there they'd often had to share beds, three or four of them in each bunk. He'd hated it. Nobody wanted them. And then somehow, someone had wanted him. For three years, someone had wanted him. Then he'd gotten sent into this place.
And he'd be forgotten again. Just one of the hundreds of other people. Just another number.
Noise.
There was so much noise.
He could hear everything. Could feel the thrumming of blood in his veins, the beating of his heart beginning to drown everything out, breaths coming out in gasps, hands going over his ears, trying to drown out the sounds.
Too much. There was too much.
He'd be forgotten again. He'd be left in this place. Kennedy was getting married without him. He'd miss her wedding. He'd miss his sister's wedding.
This was just like the orphanage. Only this time, there was no one coming to save him.
Jax had never been a reader. He despised books with every little piece of his being, the words seeming heavy and awkward sticking to the roof of his mouth and in his chest. They were heavy. To say. To think, even. Sentences didn't make sense. Paragraphs were even worse. Give him a page full of text, and he gave up instantly.
But he'd read one book. And the main character had filled him with a vicious, violent rage. Her anxiety attacks were rarely portrayed well. The author had her standing in the middle of the room, clutching at her chest and repeating 'I can't breathe' over and over again. And the instant someone said 'It will be okay' or hugged said character, everything would magically become okay. She'd snap out of it instantly, and be immediately okay afterwards.
But no one ever talked about the ugly part of anxiety attacks. Lashing out at whoever got close, screaming and crying. Felling like the whole world was spinning out of control around you. It made people do things. Made them see things that weren't there, dragging irrational feelings to the surface, and maybe most importantly, made them feel weak. Worthless.
Yeah. Guess anxiety was only good when the love interest needed to seem nurturing.
And how exactly did that have anything to do with our little emo boy?
Well...
If one were to go to the small hall, and look VERY carefully behind one of the statues decorating it, they'd find him behind a huge bust of Salzar Slytherin, head between his knees. Clutched between his long fingers was a letter. More specifically, a letter informing him his sister had gotten engaged. And he'd missed it. He'd missed his sister's engagement. He'd been at hogwarts for exactly one week, and he'd already missed something. How. How was that possible. Was this going to be his life now? Away from his family, locked up in a huge school surrounded by strangers, trying to fit in an alien culture, with nothing but a sketchbook and the clothes on his back? And the rest of his family would go on living their lives as if he didn't exist. As if he didn't matter.
A small gasp escaped him as he felt the familiar tightness in his chest, throat closing up as he slid down the wall, white knuckled grip on the letter making his nails dig into his palm. From behind the bust, he could see the other students passing him by, chatting and laughing. Noise. There was so much noise at Hogwarts. It was overwhelming. Back at St. Gabriel's, it had been the same. Hundreds of kids breathing, and talking, and living all overtop one another. There was so little space there they'd often had to share beds, three or four of them in each bunk. He'd hated it. Nobody wanted them. And then somehow, someone had wanted him. For three years, someone had wanted him. Then he'd gotten sent into this place.
And he'd be forgotten again. Just one of the hundreds of other people. Just another number.
Noise.
There was so much noise.
He could hear everything. Could feel the thrumming of blood in his veins, the beating of his heart beginning to drown everything out, breaths coming out in gasps, hands going over his ears, trying to drown out the sounds.
Too much. There was too much.
He'd be forgotten again. He'd be left in this place. Kennedy was getting married without him. He'd miss her wedding. He'd miss his sister's wedding.
This was just like the orphanage. Only this time, there was no one coming to save him.
23 Aug 2020, 00:54
Anxiety Attacks
Henry walked down the stairs with his hands in his jean pockets, he was lost in thought and couldn't help himself but think of his hidden life. His life that he didn't even know about till last summer, he knew nothing about either of his parents families and no matter how many questions he ask about them when he was little he never got any answers but now here he was with all the answers about his father's family; the Alluring's. Henry's eyes flashed with hatred as he thought of them, everything about them made his blood boil and his skin crawl but somehow even with his anxiety Henry kept his anger and thoughts in checked and controlled. Well he wasn't having an outburst or a panicked attack but he wasn't okay either but to Henry that was better then the other ways it could have been, the ways that keep on flashing thought his mind from his anxiety.
Henry changed out of his school robes that he hated so much in his common room before walking down the stairs and entering the small hall, from an outsider you wouldn't be able to tell that the 12 year old slytherin had anything on his mind or was even in slytherin since he bore no sign of his house. He worse simple blue but worn out jeans, with a long sleeve grey shirt and his favorite greenish and slightly faded green jacket. Henry left his messager type bag in his common room as his slightly curly hair was a bit untidy and messy, but overall he had a appearance that said he was cool and handsome or even popular.
Henry wasn't suspecting to talk to anyone as he continued down the corridor and into the small hall when he noticed something out of place. Henry approached the stature of slytherin when he saw a boy around his size but maybe a year younger than him who was hiding behind it. The boy was sitting behind the statue with his head between his knees and seemed to be holding an letter and he was definitely having an panic attack. From all the years that Henry dealt with them, he knew what they looked like so he approached the stature and went to the boy.
" Just breath, alright," Henry spoke to the boy when he was right next to him.
He leaned down on his knees as he looked up at the boy and smiled as he spoke again " are you alright mate? Just breath, trust me breathing always helps.
Outfit
@Jackson Lockwood
"There's no such thing as strange creatures, only blinked people" - Newt Scamander
23 Aug 2020, 15:23
Anxiety Attacks
"Just breathe."
Why does everyone say that.Jackson didn't look up. Didn't do anything but tighten his hand around the crumpled piece of paper, fingers turning white from the effort. He wasn't a bleedin kicked puppy. He knew how to manage his own damn anxiety attacks, he'd been having them for years. Dude was talking to him. There he was, hiding behind a statue, trying to block out the noises which were driving him mad, trying to regain self control without embarrassing himself, and someone was demanding his attention. How many more 'fuck off' signs could he have been giving off? What did he need to do, hold up a damn sign?
A surge of anger ran through him, hot and vicious. And distracting. Who did the guy think he was? Why did people always need to feel like heros? Coming to the bleedin rescue and being completely useless while at it? Weren't there any other ways to help him like, say, getting him a glass of water? Or just...diverting people from that side of the hallway? But then, Jax thought, I would have been annoyed with him for bringing me water. There really was no getting it right with him, when he was having an attack. Just breathe. Well...maybe that wasn't such terrible advice. Annoying? Yes. Arrogant to presume he didn't bleedin know he was supposed to breathe? Yeah. But good advice.
In. Out. In. Out. A small gasp left him as the knot in his chest loosened a little, eyes squeezed shut. The guy was still talking. "What the fuck do you think?" he snapped, letting the letter fall to the floor, shaking hands digging through the pocket of his hoodie to find the set of iron keys. They were heavy, ugly and had certainly seen better days, but the moment he wrapped his hand around them, the shock of cold was sent through his system. Grounding him. Bringing him back down. For a few brief moments, he was in his charms classroom, casting the spell for the first time, watching in awe as the keys mended and then proceeded to dance for him. It was the very first spell he'd gotten right.
Breathing labored, Jax opened his eyes, icy blue gaze meeting the newcomer's. Oh. It was...it was Knight. Jax has seen him sulking in the halls sometimes, the anger he knew so well clearly visible in his eyes. Knight had...a certain air. His bearing was different from Jax. Where Knight seemed popular, cool even, Jax was...not headed in a good direction. You could see it on his face, in the ripped clothing and over-sized black hoodie. There was something wild, crazy about the small emo boy, a strange glimmer in his eyes, his movements, his thoughts and words all powered by rage. Knight would probably grow up to be Mr. Perfect. Jax, from the looks of it, would turn into someone you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley. Even now, the small boy's hands were littered in stick and poke tattoos, fingers stained with silver spraypaint.
"Don't you have some groupies to attend to?"
Clothes
@Henry Knight
Why does everyone say that.Jackson didn't look up. Didn't do anything but tighten his hand around the crumpled piece of paper, fingers turning white from the effort. He wasn't a bleedin kicked puppy. He knew how to manage his own damn anxiety attacks, he'd been having them for years. Dude was talking to him. There he was, hiding behind a statue, trying to block out the noises which were driving him mad, trying to regain self control without embarrassing himself, and someone was demanding his attention. How many more 'fuck off' signs could he have been giving off? What did he need to do, hold up a damn sign?
A surge of anger ran through him, hot and vicious. And distracting. Who did the guy think he was? Why did people always need to feel like heros? Coming to the bleedin rescue and being completely useless while at it? Weren't there any other ways to help him like, say, getting him a glass of water? Or just...diverting people from that side of the hallway? But then, Jax thought, I would have been annoyed with him for bringing me water. There really was no getting it right with him, when he was having an attack. Just breathe. Well...maybe that wasn't such terrible advice. Annoying? Yes. Arrogant to presume he didn't bleedin know he was supposed to breathe? Yeah. But good advice.
In. Out. In. Out. A small gasp left him as the knot in his chest loosened a little, eyes squeezed shut. The guy was still talking. "What the fuck do you think?" he snapped, letting the letter fall to the floor, shaking hands digging through the pocket of his hoodie to find the set of iron keys. They were heavy, ugly and had certainly seen better days, but the moment he wrapped his hand around them, the shock of cold was sent through his system. Grounding him. Bringing him back down. For a few brief moments, he was in his charms classroom, casting the spell for the first time, watching in awe as the keys mended and then proceeded to dance for him. It was the very first spell he'd gotten right.
Breathing labored, Jax opened his eyes, icy blue gaze meeting the newcomer's. Oh. It was...it was Knight. Jax has seen him sulking in the halls sometimes, the anger he knew so well clearly visible in his eyes. Knight had...a certain air. His bearing was different from Jax. Where Knight seemed popular, cool even, Jax was...not headed in a good direction. You could see it on his face, in the ripped clothing and over-sized black hoodie. There was something wild, crazy about the small emo boy, a strange glimmer in his eyes, his movements, his thoughts and words all powered by rage. Knight would probably grow up to be Mr. Perfect. Jax, from the looks of it, would turn into someone you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley. Even now, the small boy's hands were littered in stick and poke tattoos, fingers stained with silver spraypaint.
"Don't you have some groupies to attend to?"
Clothes
@Henry Knight
23 Aug 2020, 18:25
Anxiety Attacks
Henry couldn't help but laugh a bit at the boy's remark, usually students heard him to be a know it all or total geek and even top of every class but somehow a new rumour had started that he was popular and even considered to be one of the cool kids but Henry figured that Eyre has started it since Henry made have mistaken Eyre to be one of the popular, wealthy pureblood gryffindor's. Henry just smiled as he ran a ran through his hair when after he spoke " so you were those rumours about me," Henry shook his head a bit which allowed his hair to go back to it's untidy appearance as he continued " well don't believe everything you hear, because I'm not popular or cool. Trust me, I would never have groupies."
Henry leaned his back on the statue before speaking again " yeah, I'm actually an outsider and a lone wolf. I only have a couple friends anyway," Henry turned his head and smiled at the first year as he spoke again " I'm Henry, just Henry and you are?" Henry then figured that the boy would ignore him or figure that he didn't know what he was going through she Henry spoke again " I know what your going through and I can help. I have anxiety to and even a stutter," Henry laughed a bit at the mention of his stutter since he barely did it anymore before continuing " I use to have attacks everyday last year before I sort of mange them." By manged, the second year meant instead of having an breakdown he now just kept his thoughts isolated and to himself which was worse as Henry spoke again " your a first year right? Are you feelings any better? Just keep breathing okay?"
@Jackson Lockwood
"There's no such thing as strange creatures, only blinked people" - Newt Scamander
23 Aug 2020, 20:08
Anxiety Attacks
Jackson was only half listening, most of his attention being taken up by the aftermath of his panic attack. Trying to get his breathing under control, his heart rate down. But the moment he heard the words 'lone wolf', a huff of laughter escaped him. Most people didn't realize exactly how ridiculous it sounded. Knight apparently didn't either. "You actually said that with a straight face," he wondered aloud, turning to face the older boy, his thumb rubbing up the keys as he studied him. "No," he said after a beat of silence, icy blue eyes taking him in the way a predator would its pray. He rarely, if ever, talked to the wizards around him. So he'd heard no rumors. And the guy was right about his self assessment. He wasn't cool. Wasn't popular. He was just a kid. A talkative one at that.
"It's interesting," Jax said, climbing to his feet, body still shaking slightly. But his tone didn't match the trembling hands or gasping breaths which had controlled him a few minutes before. It was cold, a certain rage bubbling just underneath the surface. The anger seemed to control the younger boy, guide his every action. "You pissed me off, which distracted me from the attack. So thanks for that." As he talked, he shook the dust off his jeans, picking up the letter and holding it above one of the nearby floating candles. It caught aflame, the orange and blue light shining on the boys faces, casting eerie shadows across the room. For a moment, time seemed to stop, the only thing that mattered being the crackling of the flames as they devoured the letter. And then that moment was over, with him stepping on the charred paper to put out the flames. Nothing was left, save for a smoldering pile of ash.
"I'm Jax," he said in the silence that followed.
@Henry Knight
23 Aug 2020, 20:27
Anxiety Attacks
Henry listened to the boy and watched as he got up, Henry followed him as he stood up while he replied " your welcome I guess," Henry watched as the boy placed the letter into the closet floating candle which then the letter caught a flame and for a few minutes started to burn. Henry watched as the flame started to die down, the boy dropped the letter on the ground then step on it to extinguish the flame which left nothing but a pile of dust and fragments of the letter. Henry guessed that whatever was in that letter probably caused the boy's panicked attack and while he was interested in what it said, Henry knew better then to mention something about it instead.
The boy introduce himself as Jax, Henry guessed that was a nickname or something but he still smiled as he spoke " it's nice to meet you, Jax," Henry ran a quick hand through his hair to get some strange out of his eyes before speaking again " I'm glad your find now or to some extent. If you ever need any help with another attack then I can easily be found," Henry then got an idea as he spoke again " want to chat a bit more Jax?"
@Jackson Lockwood
"There's no such thing as strange creatures, only blinked people" - Newt Scamander
24 Aug 2020, 20:33
Anxiety Attacks
@Henry Knight
"Can you talk and walk?" he asked, bending down to pick up the blackbook and pen he'd stashed behind the statue, pale hands wrapping around the objects in a comfortable grip. He still looked a little pale, but then again, he always looked a little pale. Hell, he looked like a corpse, if you wanted to go about it that way, black clothing and hair making his skin seem even brighter, chipping black nailpolish a harsh contrast against his slender fingers.
In the pocket of his hoodie the outline of a phone was clearly visible. The small emo boy still carried it around, despite it having stopped working the instant he'd set foot inside of Hogwarts. It was there for sentimental value like most of the junk he filled his pockets and drawstring bag. A bag he proceeded to stuff his blackbook and pen in, hesitating for a moment before dropping the keys inside as well. Knowing him, he'd set them somewhere and forget about them. Tossing the bag over his shoulder after carefully closing it, he turned towards Knight, thumbs hooking in his belt loops. "Ravenclaw tower," he announced after a few beats of silence, icy blue eyes meeting the other boy's gaze for a brief second before turning and starting to walk. He didn't wait to see if the older student followed.
He'd skipped classes the first few days at Hogwarts. Skipped them in favor of walking around the castle, getting lost in the huge corridors and walking the rooms and staircases, watching for signs to tell him where he was. It had been hell, spending entire days absolutely lost, trying to get down to the Potions classroom and ending up in the courtyard. But finally, the week spent wandering was starting to pay off. Because now he knew which direction to head in, an uncanny sense of direction most first years didn't posses having developed. When you loved in Toronto for 9 years, you tended to get lost, whether it was on purpose or not. Jax had spent a long time walking the streets, trying to get away from the orphanage, trying to find a place to hide.
It was how his crew had discovered him. And he'd thanked god for that day, every time he woke up. because yeah, they were the bad crowd. But they'd kept him alive. And sane. He owed them everything.
26 Aug 2020, 20:15
Anxiety Attacks
The boy ask if they two could walk and talk in which Henry just simply nodded as he watched the boy get ready to leave. He couldn't help but noticed all the artwork or drawings on his arms, Henry wanted to ask him about them but didn't know how he should since they sort of reminded him of muggle tattoos but couldn't be sure if that's what they are exactly as Henry got snapped from those thoughts anyway when he saw a glimmer from inside if the boy's jacket in which Henry tried not to stare but couldn't help it as one eye kept on darting to the kids pocket where eventually it was seen to be a square black box sort of or something like that.
Henry didn't like it stare but he couldn't help but think about what that way or why the kid had it in his pocket, maybe I should ask or just stay quiet since it might be something personal to him or he might not feel like talking but he did say walk and talk so... no it didn't mean ask what was in his pocket because then it will seem like I was staring at him or something and he may get angry with me and go off... but maybe I should ask and he won't? Ugh just make up your mind, really I haven't had anxiety like this since last year so just breath and stop. Now ask and don't let this anxiety take over your mind or let your hidden family and life fill your mind... well at least until we part ways.
Henry then caught the kid's sentence as he said something about going to the ravenclaw coming room, Henry thought about telling him that he can't go there or that he was a slytherin but decided against it in the end plus he actually really wanted to be in ravenclaw and sometimes wished that the sorting hat placed him there instead of slytherin,
which at the moment Henry didn't want to be in since his father was in that house and currently Henry rather not think of his father or have anything to do with him that was including be in the same house that he was. Speaking of his summer times, he was currently skipping a few classes which is something the know it all or smartass never did before since last year he was the perfect or model student but now after everything the 12 year old him through, he had enough and just wanted to isolate himself.
After debating it in his head for a while, Henry spoke " what's that black thing in your pocket?" Henry hoped he didn't ask anything too personal and just in case he quickly added " shall we start walking and talking to the ravenclaw common room then?"
@Jackson Lockwood sorry for the late reply
"There's no such thing as strange creatures, only blinked people" - Newt Scamander