Sitting straight up in bed I felt my heart palpitating. Reaching up grabbing my chest, taking deep breaths, and squeezing my eyes shut. I was trying to do anything just to get through this panic attack. Not being able to breathe in the middle of the night and no one's there to comfort you is one of the hardest things. I wasn't good at being alone. My family always told me I was so bubbly. Hearing them now in my head in this empty dark room, brings me some kind of comfort. "She's always so happy," mom would say. I finally opened my eyes slowly and in the corner of the room I saw a dark figure slumped over. I live by myself. My palms soaked from sweating, I slid my blanket off my legs and swung them over the bed to go and investigate what it was. "Please be the laundry. Please be the laundry." Silenting whispering to myself just so I have a tiny sliver of courage. Stepping lightly, I finally make it to the corner. I put my hand on the slumped figure and felt hair.