Flipped - Ch. 1

(Anxiety Pov.)

My arm moved, despretly trying to push off the heavy nusience that lay on me. Damn she was heavy! My arms are shaking with how heavy she is. I sigh, dropping my arms. Allowing the girl to fall on me, her sleeping, drooling face now back on my cheek as she rest.

I am absaloutly smothered. I am sitting on the coutch, in the middle between Deceit and the Dutchess who are sleeping peacefully, like they were not crushing me under their weight.

I can hardly see, but from what I can I see the cracked t.v. of the dark sides in front of me, and the white cracked wall around it.

I squirm, not like the contact these two, without permission, give. I can slowly feel my heart start racing, turning the uncomfterable touching into a soon-to-be unbearable feeling. I can feel it coming the longer im under them, so I start trying to wake tbe two before I panick.

"Hay, guys. Guys!" I tap them, hardly, unable to do so fully. Dispite that I feel them start to move.

"Hay, Dede, Dutchess, wake the frick up! Im gonna have a panick attack!" I say with a bit more concern then probing then I hoped.

Dede wakes up first, wairily, blinks a few times, than realizes the problem I was having. She gets up, causing me to fall from the weight of the other silly girl, even more on me now.

"This is the complete opposite of what I wanted Dede!" I say irritated.

"I know I know, hold on." She replys, rubbing her eyes as she walks over to the Dutchess, quickly shaking her awake.

"What the fuck? I was in the middle of a beautiful dream!"

I flinch at what the word beautiful means comming from her.

"Get up," Deceit says, "your gonna suffocate the emo before she has a chance to panick about it." She says sternly, watching the Dutchess, Treta, raise her hands.

"Ok ok, chill. Geez."

She folds her arms, walking down the hall to her room with a hmph. Me and de watch her, de rolling her eyes.

"Sge is so dramatic," de says, almost in a tierd sigh, while slowly pacing herself as she walks into the kitchen.

I sigh, putting my knees up to my chin, wrapping my arms around them as I sit in the corner of the coutch. Watching as de starts making a pot of coffee.

"Hay Z?" I hear her say. I turn over to de, de not looking back at me. "How is Panda?"

Panda, that is what we call our host, Abigail. Our host is pretty fragile, and lives the colors black and white. Along with her personality, it was not hard to suite her with that likable nickname.

"Oh, you mean her fears and stuff?" I ask, de nods.

I turned around to face the t.v., closing my eyes, feeling my body begin to shake. I concentrate. I see black. My body relaxes.

"Sge is fine," I tell de. De nods, worry slipping off her face.