The Lungs Are Blank To The Ribs Mga Nobela at Kwento

"Breathing is for people with functioning ribs." "You have functioning ribs." "Functioning is a strong word." I was, at this exact moment, doing a wall-sit against the small PT room wall. My thighs were on fire. My ribs were complaining in a low, polite way that I have come to recognize as my body's version of a Yelp review. I was also, in the way of someone who has spent the last seven days doing normal things very loudly so she doesn't have to think about a particular man, trying to focus entirely on the wall.

“Get out of my sight, Calani. Don't touch me.” “I can't breathe, can't breathe…” The words barely made it past my lips, turning into a weak whine. Black spots danced across my vision, rapidly eating away at the edges until the entire room became a blurry mess. My ribs ached, expanding and contracting too fast, but no matter how hard I inhaled, my lungs stayed completely empty. My heart was hammering so loudly it filled my ears, drowning out everything else. "Raven! Please, look at me!" Calani's voice sounded like she was speaking from underwater, distant and distorted.