Breathing Rhyme Novels & Stories

It really was too noisy. She exhaled, taking a deep dreath and once again exhaled. She can't... breath!

Instinctively, I open up to let him in and that's when I drag in the first breath of air. I tear my mouth away from his as I gulp in several times, battling to breathe once again. “Lily, look at me. Try to breathe slowly, like this. In. Out. In. Out.” While he says this, his eyes are pinned on mine and he's doing the breathing exercise along with me. I follow his leading, inhaling when he does and exhaling when he does, mirroring his actions and searching his face like it has all the answers I need.

Until then: breathe. One breath at a time.

Respecting the distance, or maybe just wary of the blast radius. "Breathe with me. In through your nose. Four counts. One. Two. Three. Four." I try. Fail. My chest is a tight knot that won't expand. "Again. Follow my voice. In—two—three—four. Hold—two—three—four. Out—two—three—four." I lock onto his voice. It’s steady. Clinical. I follow his rhythm. His control. Slowly, the room stops spinning. Air reaches the bottom of my lungs.

His eyes lock onto mine, desperate, pleading. "That's it. Breathe with Mommy. In... and out. In... and out." Slowly, painfully, his breathing starts to match mine. The objects begin to lower. Inch by inch. "Good boy," I whisper. "You're doing so good. Keep breathing. Keep looking at me." His little face scrunches with concentration. The glow in his eyes flickers, dims. The wooden swords clatter to the dirt. Then the stones. Then the ball.

Carys followed him. Then he began humming a song that sounded like nursery rhymes. “When you don’t feel brave enough to breathe, call the butterfly. Tell her. Oh Butterfly, come to me. Let her pat your heart, pat your heart. Pat your heart and feel three things. Papa’s clothes, baby’s clothes and the ground beneath your feet. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap…” “… Now tell papa, four things you see. Papa’s eyes, papa’s nose, papa’s hands… papa’s toes. Oh Butterfly, fly to me.” Carys sang through her hiccoughs and gasps.

"And I need you to breathe with me. Can you do that?" I tried to shake my head, but his hands held me still—not forcefully, but firmly enough that I couldn't look away from his eyes. "Yes, you can," Nicholas insisted. "Watch me. Focus on nothing but my breathing. Breathe in—" He took a slow, deep breath, his chest expanding. "Hold—" He paused for a beat. "And out." He exhaled slowly and deliberately. I tried desperately to follow his rhythm, my lungs fighting against me. In, hold, out. In, hold, out.

His tiny voice quivered through the phone. “…that’s Mummy.” Anna chuckled through tears. “Yes, baby. It’s Mummy.” “Mummy?” The word was so small, so desperate. “Mummy is coming home, sweetheart,” she promised, her voice trembling but steady. “Really, Mummy?” “Yes,” she said firmly. “But until then, remember the breathing game? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slowly. Show Mummy how good you are at it.” I heard sniffles, then the sound of him trying.

I can’t breathe. “Katie, Katie girl. I’m here. Mom is here too. Breath.” Dad’s calm voice said. I didn’t even hear him come in. He placed his hand on my stomach. “Feel my hand. Breath there. Feel your stomach go up and down. Into your nose, out of your mouth.” Dad said. I felt his big warm hand on my stomach and tried to focus only on that. “Breath Kate. In, “ dad said as he breathed with me, “and out. That’s it, Kate. You’re okay. Breath.”

Ellie said controlling her breathing from the tight grip “Let go of me you son of…” “Shh” He breath down her neck, her back was to his front, her legs barely touching the ground making her Shiver down to her bone