Anxiety Memes Novels & Stories

“You’re probably lying about the attack.” “Go home.” I scrolled faster. Big mistake. The avalanche waited for me. Memes. Videos. Side-by-side comparison photos of me versus my brothers. Articles analyzing my expression during the gala like I was some puzzle box. Whole threads debating the size of my potential wolf form. One comment said I’d probably shift into a small, anxious-looking husky. I actually choked on my coffee. “I hate people,” I said to no one. The laptop buzzed again. And again. And again.

He's remembering her laugh. "Can I see?" The question leapt out, sharp and brittle as breaking glass. He looked up, surprised, then shrugged. "Sure?" He held out the phone. My fingers were cold as I took it. The screen was bright in the dim room. It was, as promised, a dumb meme- a photoshopped picture of a famous building with a ridiculous caption about architects. The group chat was labeled "The Drafting Table." The last three senders were Ben, another old friend, Ben again. The shame was immediate, corrosive, flooding my veins with heat. I had barged into an innocent moment and exposed the festering sickness of my own mind. I thrust the phone back at him as if it had burned me.

Translation: No one wanted to buy a book of lies when the truth was streaming in 4K. "She's finished," Noah said, pouring a glass for Marcus, who had just arrived with a stack of pizzas. "The court of public opinion has adjourned. She’s a pariah." "She's a punchline," Sienna added, scrolling through T*****r on her phone. "The memes are brutal. 'Karen West' is trending." The room was warm, filled with the golden light of the setting sun and the easy, unforced camaraderie of survivors. The siege mentality that had defined their lives for so long was dissolving, replaced by the giddy exhaustion of victory.

Max’s posture mirrors mine. My anxiety and fear are coursing through me, but I can feel other emotions too, ones I’m not sure are mine. Anxiety, worry, nerves, joy, relief, resignation. It’s a fucking smorgasbord of feelings, and it’s overwhelming. It’s similar to the other day at training, and now I’m convinced not all of these feelings are my own. “What’s going on, baby? I don’t understand,” Max says gently. Zahra sighs, and the anxiety spikes.

Anxiety surged within me, and I curled up, pulling my knees to my chest, burying my face in them as my body trembled uncontrollably. The anxiety attack intensified, making it hard to breathe. My face turned red, and I gasped for air, desperate to find relief. Yet they continued laughing and making cruel jokes, shattering my self-esteem even further. Just as I was about to give in and let the attack consume me, I heard a throat clearing. Despite the chaos, it cut through the noise, and everyone looked up. "Fuck, it's Slim," someone mumbled, and Hayden leaned against the doorway, his imposing figure towering over them.

Mei said, “about half the posts are people yelling that pups aren’t property. Your speech is getting traction.” “Great,” Lyra said. “I always wanted to be meme‑quoted in between cat videos and conspiracy threads.” Mei’s gaze flicked to her phone again, lips thinning. “There’s a thread,” she said slowly, “where some genius is zooming your block photos. ‘Spot the laundromat,’ ‘track the route,’ that kind of thing. Harris and Rhea are already playing whack‑a‑mole with it, but it’s out there.”

Fear floods my chest. *************************************** My i_n_s_t_a_g_r_a_m is (author_pixie)

Her fingers trembled as she scrolled. “Bro she’s INSANE” “Ethan run 😭” “Psycho girlfriend energy” “She belongs in jail wtf” Elena clicked out of that post and the next one loaded so fast. A meme this time. Her face photoshopped onto the Hulk’s body, mid-rampage. Caption: “Elena when you forget to text back.” Then another. Her face on a tiger, roaring. “Don’t mess with Elena Cruz.” Then another. Her with exaggerated muscles and a unibrow. “Roid rage Elena.”

Tugging on my lower lip, I quickly typed out a reply, deciding to go with the flow. Me: good…sup? +39 XXX: Sup? What does that mean? A snort escaped me before I could I stop myself. “What the hell are you smiling at?” Tanya asked, pausing on her task at hand. Angela and Ava had their eyes fixed on me too. A fake smile tugged on my lips. “Uhh… nothing? Just saw a funny meme that's all.” Her eyes narrowed, almost like she didn't believe but then she nodded, resuming her work on Ava's nails. “Okay…”

I'm so fucked. *****************************************