Sound Breathing Novels & Stories

So she nodded her head. "You are going to have to do some breathing techniques, lay down." He said to her, and she complied "Good now deep breath in, and slowly exhale. Good, again." They did that until Scarlette was in the rhythm and one with her breath. "Now I am going to play some sounds that you would hear in the woods." He said to her, The other Scarlette was still standing at the end of the bed observing the whole situation.

I could feel my heat starting to boil out from my abdomen. “Calming breaths, Mia cara. Close your lips and inhale through your nose for a count of four. Hold your breath for a count of seven. Then exhale completely through your mouth, making a whoosh sound for a count of eight.” Alec’s calming and patient voice whispered against my ear. My eyes closed as I tried to maintain control. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t right there. If his scent wasn’t engulfing my senses, making me lightheaded. Everything about him makes concentrating on anything else impossible

His chest vibrates against my spine—bone‑deep. Her breath stutters. “Breathe with me,” I murmur, leaning closer so my mouth is near her ear. “In, out. Just follow me.” I draw in a slow breath, exaggerating the sound so she can hear it over the thundering of her own heart. Hold. Let it go, long and controlled. Her chest tries to match mine, stuttering at first, then catching a fraction of my rhythm. “That’s it,” I whisper. “Good girl.”

"Listen to me. You’re not in that basement. You’re here, in this elevator. It’s just you and me, alright? There’s no fire, no smoke. Just focus on breathing." I took a deep breath, making it loud and slow so he could hear. "In... and out," I coached. "Come on, follow me. In... and out." For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to do it. His breaths were shallow, panicked. But then, slowly, he started to mimic my breathing. It was uneven at first, shaky. But gradually, it began to steady. "That’s it," I said quietly. "Keep going. We’re okay."

Her throat tightened, but her voice stayed steady. “I’m here,” she said. “Breathe with me. Slow. In… and out.” She demonstrated, exaggerating her breathing. “In,” she said softly. “Good. Now out.” His chest hitched. Again. She didn’t move her hand. “Listen to me,” she said calmly. “You’re not dying. You’re not alone. Just follow my voice.” Slowly—agonizingly slowly—his breathing began to steady. The monitor’s rapid beeping eased.

What? "You’re forcing it." He explained. She quickly replied him saying — "Yea cos I can’t breathe!—" but he shushed her. "For a patient who needs my help, you sure are a chatter box." He ignored the heavy stare she gave him and continued in a gentle tone, "The more you force a deep breath, the worse it gets." Christopher slowly demonstrated. "Try what I'm doing," He inhaled gently through his nose. Not a huge breath, rather just a normal one. Then he exhaled slowly.

she stuttered with sobs, once again trying to reach out to me. Almost immediately after her last attempt, I quickly moved one of my hands to meet Aryana's shaking fingers, holding on tightly. With gentle movements, I brought her hand to my chest, palm resting over the fabric draped over my body. I let her feel the steady rhythm of my breaths, the distinguishable up and down of my thorax, and the muscles all moving to show Aryana that she could breathe successfully. Each intake of air was distinct and exaggerated to help Aryana focus.

My voice sounds hoarse and breathy and my throat burns, feeling constrained as if I ate something that went down the wrong pipe. Seeing me struggle for breath, he shouts... "Are you crazy!? What the fuck are you talking about? Look at the way you're breathing!" "No, I'm not– crazy," I reply, trying to make him see reason. He's right about the way I'm breathing though but how do I make him understand that I'm gasping for air, not because I'm dying but because of my burning throat? "Relax man! I can't— talk through the mask..." I wheeze.

“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.” My eyes leak tears. Four counts? I attempt the technique because I want to lose. I didn't succeed the first time. But on the third attempt, I manage to breathe out for four long beats before sucking in air like I’m suffocating again. “There.” The voice makes me relax. “You’ve got it. Now, for six. Ready? Let me count on you.” His thumb swipes across my knuckles gently, and I tell my lungs this is the one that will calm me down.

The whisper of wind through the trees. And the sound. That beautiful, rhythmic sound in my ear. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Her heart is still beating. And so I keep breathing.