My vision faded in and out.

Black and white sparks hit the edges of my vision as I swayed in place.

"Nikki. Listen to my voice. I need you to take a breath. Can you do that for me?"

I shook my head back and forth. Muzzy numbness wrapped around my skull. Cotton thoughts as my throat closed on my words. No. No, it was too hard. As my Aunt's voice throttled through my panic, I unknowingly slid down until my ass met icy concrete seeping through my pajama pants.

"You can do this. I know you can do this, baby."

A small noise. I think it came from me. The whimper of a wounded bird. My fingers were numb where I gripped the phone. With a shiver from the trickle of sweat, slick down my back, I try to focus into the words. They won't do anything. I know it won't help me. Nothing ever helps me. But I can't stop hoping, twisting my long legs to my chest as the cool autumn air funnels through my flesh.

"Can you hear me? Give me something to go off of here."

My Aunt's voice went from sweet to commanding in a blink. A transition that broke through the chill as I came back into myself and noticed the fine, uncontrollable shiver that made my jaw clench tight as I swallowed past the lump in my throat. My head lulled back into the door. My eyes closed, the world twirling behind the darkness beneath my eyelids. My pulse tasted of terror on my tongue. A tin, cooper combo that slipped me back into my skin even as my brain did everything in its power to push me out of it.

Fight or flight is a bitch.

"I'm...here," I croaked, my focus flitted back and forth between my impulse to curl into a ball and to answer my only living relative. "I'm okay. I'm here."

"Good. Thank you." A hiss of air accompanied her relief.

She didn't say it's only walking down the driveway to get the mail.

Or It's less than 67 feet.

Or You're an idiot, Nikki. Stop this nonsense.

Instead, she counted to ten with me, taking time out of her work schedule to be my crutch. My understanding rock that embraced the fact that her orphan niece was agoraphobic, to the point where a simple walk to the mailbox was similar to trekking across an icy tundra naked and exposed.

"Go back into the house, sweetie. You don't need to do this today. We can work more on it tomorrow. It's not a timing thing, okay?"

Nothing simple. Not for my family. Nope, we weren't that lucky.

"Yeah, sure."

The panic attack tightened throughout my muscles leaving me with my shoulders under my ears. I curled my forehead to my knees. Defeat was hot under my skin. While the whole universe tunneled in and out, unease dipped low in my stomach, making each breath squeeze tighter beneath my ribs.

"You've only just started confronting your problems, sweetheart. You can't expect things to take a magical turn the second you snap your fingers. We both need to give it time and patience, okay? Just go back inside and give yourself some time, some self-care."

Her soothing voice should have been a balm. Instead, I wanted to fight.

A choking feeling of failure turned my pins and needles fingers into fists. There was no reason for life to be this hard. It didn't have to be like this anymore and the sick to death aspect of having such a supportive person in my corner made me want to rip off my own skin.

"Don't be so understanding. Please."

"Being a bitch isn't going to make this any easier, Nikki. If I was a hardass, it would trigger you even more, you know that. Your therapist told us this during our last group session. I'm not going to beat you up or bring you down for your trauma."

"Right," I bit my lip. Still unable to process the outside world, everything cold and numb. "I know. I get it. Immersion therapy isn't something I should be doing alone...."

A sudden wave of exhaustion hit and I leaned back on the front stoop of our townhouse.

"Do you need me to stay on the phone with you?"

Fuck, she was at work. My little meltdown kept my Aunt from putting food on the table. Wow, what a selfish, self-obsessed asshole I was to try this kind of thing by myself. A little stunt that only confirmed how much I wasn't ready to take on the outside world. Powerlessness was my norm. How I could think anything beyond that was ridiculous.

"No, no. Of course not, I'm all good," My words ran together as I covered for my jackass mistake. "I'll text you after I've gotten inside and done the self-care thing."

Each word fell from my lips and burned in my throat.

Anxiety was still fresh in my thoughts, an innate need to go completely postal at any second whispering silent words of warning to my subconscious. Even though I couldn't hear them. The voices were there all of the same. There was no stop button.

After a few more responses, I got off the call. Still shaking, I shifted and tried to ignore the deep ache in my bones. For the next hour or two, I would feel like an octogenarian who desperately needed a nap while my adrenaline tampered down to nothing.

I was going to feel like absolute shit. And I'd accomplished nothing for it.

"Fantastic," I muttered.

Now I needed to summon the strength to drag my vulnerability out of the daylight and crawl into my bed. Every second I stayed outside, drained and alone, added to my fear. Sure, the sun kissed my exposed shoulders with pre-summer heat. But there was no comfort.

The little hairs on the back of my neck raised all at once. A prickle of survival.

We had neighbors, obviously, anyone could see me. There was no escape. Even after moving to a smaller town with less people my past had followed me. Unless we moved to a remote cabin in Alaska, I was basically screwed as far as living among the general public.

I pried my eyelids open to make myself scan our quaint little neighborhood.

Who's out there?

Someone.

Their eyes cut through me like a laser.

A thick blanket of unease weighed on my shoulders.

"Of course there's someone there, Nikki. It's the middle of the day. Nosy Karen's have nothing to do but spy. Get yourself together."

Nothing was wrong. Edginess was a product of my anxiety and nothing else. I was just coming down. Paranoia was like a second skin to me. Vulnerability, my only BFF. Nothing changed, not since the accident.

With a small sigh, I wrapped my fingers around the doorknob, an anchor to pull my shaking form up. The vague, twisted sensation that someone watched me continued to flicker across my skin. As if an unknown entity ran their icy fingers down my spine.

"Whatever. Ignore it."

I closed my eyes again, an attempt to focus on getting into the house. These four walls offered the most safety, if I could make it back to my room.

Everything would be fine.

Sure, that was bullshit. Words that were meaningless that I was supposed to tell myself because my therapist said it was good for my mental health. Affirmations that would somehow keep the terror behind a closed and locked door.

Yeah, sure. Easy. Say the words, slowly go outside, and face the fears that lay beneath my disorder. Those were steps needed to get better.

My hand rested on the doorknob. Did I even have the energy to turn it?

A swift wind cut through my clothing and I curled into myself before turning the knob and taking my first step into the quiet intimacy of my safe zone.

"Excuse me." A masculine voice lilted over my shoulder.

Despite my entire body seizing up, I was compelled to turn around to face the stranger.

A lean, towering guy stood five feet behind me, off to the side of my overgrown driveway. A cross between an avenging Viking in build with a mysterious, tall, dark, and chiseled vibe. Total hottie. Like something I'd see on a prime time YA drama with a love triangle.

My mouth went dry. His neutral expression didn't touch the fear that roared up inside me.

He put a large cardboard box on our walkway, before he took a step backward with a quirked smile. His intense attention burned against my skin.

My expression must have shifted, given something away. His hands went up.Both palms facing me as if to say he wouldn't hurt me. What a nice thought.

When a small whimper escaped my throat, I screwed my eyes shut.

Another noise came from me. Almost words.

Come on, Nikki. Speak. Say anything. Words. English language words.

Nausea tightened low in my abdomen sending waves of cool sweat beading my body.

My nails dug into the soft flesh of my elbows, my panicked heartbeat swallowing me whole. I nearly choked on my fear, famished for oxygen.

When I bit my lip and shook my head, wordless, there was a scuffle of shoes in the damp grass on our pockmarked asphalt driveway.

"Are you good?"

Was he moving away? He needed to be gone. He needed to be fucking gone. Now.

The iciness seeping from my wooden door penetrated through my hoodie making me shudder. I pressed back into the solidness. Get through the door. That's all I had to do now.

"Mhmm," I nodded a bunch unable to open my eyes. By seeing him, my brain acknowledged the pressure of the social situation, made it that much worse. "Go. Please."

"Whoa there, I didn't mean to scare you." The mystery stranger took another step backward shuffling through the uncut grass. "A beat to shit package was waiting at your mailbox. It seemed like it had been there awhile. I figured I would be a good citizen and bring it up so someone would notice it. No harm, no foul, okay? I'll get out of your hair."

One breath in, one breath out. I nodded again.

"Thanks." He wouldn't be able to ignore the strain in my voice.

Time to face reality. I needed to see him leave.

My eyes narrowed and I blinked a few times. Shame burned behind my eyes. I blinked even harder regretting my acute agoraphobia that kept me from socializing like normal girls.

Normal girls would probably think that this guy was bae. Probably wouldn't take more than ten seconds to ask for a number to text or his Snapchat handle.

I managed an awkward, spazzy shooing motion, my hand covered up by the arm fabric of my hoodie. Like a grandmother shooing away a stray cat from her doorstep. Minus the sound effects.

There was no way to miss the grin the guy was trying to suppress. His eyes sparked with surprise, his expression almost incredulous.

"Nice to meet you. You can forget I was even here." He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and gave a slight tilt of his head. "I won't be seeing you around though, don't worry, little rabbit."

My nose wrinkled at his weird word choice. My attention slunk to the weed eaten grass that twisted in the wind at my feet. Minutes ticked by counting the cracks in the inky asphalt counting to one hundred—because counting to ten was officially not going to help my AWOL brain.

By the time I had the courage to look up, he was gone. Thank fuck for small favors.

I licked my chapped lips.

That still didn't solve the problem of the battered, large brown cardboard mystery package sitting on my walkway.