Today was another shit day. Wade had been caught in the rain walking home from work (his car was in the shop), he lost his favorite book, and he tripped on the sidewalk and totally ate shit. When he finally got to his apartment, cold and wet from the rain, in pain because he had hit his chin on the ground, and sad because he lost his book. Then you ran up to him and started gushing about your day. Usually, he'd listen, but you were just too loud today. All that horribleness from his day was building up inside him, and he felt the beginnings of a panic attack. So he pushed past you and locked himself in his room, slamming the door and blasting his music, trying to calm down. But the panic attack came anyway, and it was brutal. Halfway through it, at the peak, you came in again, and tried to comfort him. He knew you were just trying to help, but he didn't care. His emotions were too raw, to hard to handle, and he took it out on you.

"Just get out! Go to hell, okay? I'm fucking tired of you! You're so annoying!"

He yelled, grabbing your wrist and shoving you out of his room, slamming the door and locking it this time.