Breathing Pal Novels & Stories

I waited to see if he would push my hand away but it seemed like he was too distracted with his breakdown to notice. I bent down to face him squarely and I placed my other hand on his other shoulder. "Dean," I sniffled, trying to hide the fear in my voice, "I'm gonna need you to pause for a second and then inhale and exhale." He avoided my eyes while he tried to do as I said. "Come on, you can do this." I whispered. "Try to breathe slowly." Dean closed his eyes as I moved closer to him and rubbed up and down his back. He did better at pacing his breathing this time. While they were still sounding ragged, his breaths were coming out in a slower patterned manner.

"Feel the power inside you. It's there, buzzing just beneath your skin." "It's terrifying." "Power always is but fear makes you lose control. So we breathe through it." My thumbs press gently at the base of her neck. "In through your nose, slow, hold for three counts, out through your mouth." She tries and it's shaky at first. "Again. Find the rhythm." She breathes once, twice, three times. The glow around her hands dims slightly. "Good. You're already learning." "It doesn't feel like learning. It feels like drowning."

She couldn't, her own breath a series of short, useless gasps. "Okay," he said, his voice unshaken. "New plan. We count. Breathe in with me. One... two... three... four." He breathed in deeply, demonstrating. "Hold. One... two... three. Now out. One... two... three... four... five."

“You can’t call me that.” “I just did.” He leaned over me. “Hands on your ribs.” I lifted my hands awkwardly to my sides. “No,” he murmured, and his fingers brushed mine, positioning them lower. “Here. Feel what moves.” I tried to breathe, but it came out shallow. He noticed. “Exhale slowly through your mouth.” I obeyed, lips parting. The sound left me soft, shaky. “Again. In through the nose. Fill the ribs. Feel them expand into your palms. Slower.” He paused. “Good. And exhale.”

Balin followed behind him. “Close your eyes, young Rave. Begin the breathing. Balin placed his fingers lightly on Rave’s cheek. Leesa watched as Rave began a series of long, slow breaths through his nose. With each breath, the inhale and exhale grew slightly longer. When each seemed to Leesa to last an impossibly long time, Rave began to shorten his breaths, just as gradually as he had lengthened them. The breathing exercise lasted for several minutes. Finally, Balin removed his fingers from Rave’s cheek. He motioned for Leesa to join them.

-Skylar- Suddenly, the pain stopped and everything around me looked completely different. Not in the sense that I was in a new environment, the way I was seeing everything was different. It was like I had a new pair of eyes; everything was much sharper. My nose filled with the most beautiful scent, cinnamon, my nose followed the scent, landing on Aspen. I looked at him, only to see him looking at me with complete and utter shock. I tried to get out some words, wanting to ask what was wrong, but nothing came out apart from a howl. Why was I howling?

She demonstrated the technique. When he inhaled, there was a hitch in his breathing that she wasn’t sure the source of—whether it was his exercise routine, or something more personal that she shouldn’t contemplate. “Now, hold it for a moment and exhale through your mouth.” He did as she asked, and the first breath was just what she had described. Unfortunately, either he wasn’t paying attention, or he was just trying to push her buttons, because his breath soon changed to pants. “I’m not sure if you’re trying to breathe, give birth, or you’re having a panic attack. Whatever you’re doing, it’s not what I told you.”

𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀 I couldn’t breathe. The air came in too short. Too fast. My hands were braced against the bathroom sink as I tried to pull air into my lungs, but it felt like something was tightening around my chest from the inside. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. I repeated the word in my head, but my body wouldn’t obey.

I’m going to die. Just breathe, Laura. You can do this, I tell myself. “Please, can I see your hands?” I’m far too in my head to protest. I raise my shaky palms towards the soothing voice. A soft hand clasps the back of my wrist, and an instant rush of calmness takes over my body. It makes my skin rise in pimples like an electric shock. “Okay, okay,” he says. “Hear me. Listen to me. Take down as much oxygen as possible, and when you breathe out, hold it for as long as you can. Four counts, six counts, eight counts. Each time, you move higher and higher.”

The knowledge that bleeding is just a clock you can see. LUS is quieter when it speaks. Hand tremor detected. “I noticed.” Would you like a breathing prompt? “No.” A pause. Breathing prompt initiated. “LUS.” Inhale four counts. Hold two. Exhale six. “I said no.” You complied anyway. Maya does, because apparently betrayal and respiratory regulation can coexist. Denise watches her for a second, then says, “Good recovery.” Maya looks down at the fake leg. “Tell that to Captain Calf.”