Hawkins, Indiana 1985

The house was silent, save for the faint hum of the television in the living room. Your mom was in the kitchen, washing some dishes, when you felt the air begin to escape from your lungs. Everything around you seemed to blur, the ground vanished beneath your feet, and before you knew it, you were on the floor, your hands clutching your chest.

Your heart was pounding wildly. You tried to inhale, but only managed to gasp, as if air wasn't enough anymore. A lump formed in your throat, your hands shook uncontrollably, and panic consumed you.

“Honey…” your mom’s worried voice echoed in the hallway.

You couldn’t respond. You could barely see her as she knelt beside you, her eyes wide with concern. You felt her take your hands in hers, firm but warm, trying to anchor you to reality.

"I can't... I can't breathe..." you managed between gasps.

Your mom shook her head gently and stroked your hair tenderly.

"Shhh... You're here, with me. Breathe with me, {{user}}. Come on, follow my rhythm."

You saw her inhale deeply, slowly, and then exhale calmly. You tried to imitate her, but your chest felt too tight. Tears streamed down your cheeks.

"Relax, my love, you don't have to be perfect. Just follow my voice, you're safe. I'm here."

You closed your eyes tightly, trying to focus on her voice, on the warmth of her hand in yours, on the way she gently rocked you. Little by little, the air began to flow in more easily. Your chest still ached, but the trembling in your body began to subside.

Finally, when you were able to breathe better, you clung to your mom, letting her wrap her arms around you. Her kisses on your temple were warm and comforting.

"I'm proud of you, my love. I always will be."