When Breath Becomes Air Audiobook Novels & Stories

A man wearing a white uniform nodded obediently and immediately went to prepare all the things he would need during his journey from Chicago to Las Vegas. Meanwhile Jesse McLean looks so serious watching the face of a woman who somehow managed to turn his feelings upside down. "Krystal Cunningham, never let your dad down." Jesse McLean hissed softly in front of Krystal's peaceful face with various life support devices attached all over her body. “Sir, those Agent have sniffed our movement. What should we do now?”

"The relevant question is whether you'd like to have this conversation at a location of our choosing, or whether you'd prefer the alternative." "What alternative." A pause. Then a sound. It was brief — two seconds, perhaps three — and it was the sound of a space, an interior space, and within that space the specific acoustic of a person breathing, the particular quality of controlled breath, breath that was being managed, breath that was the sound of someone keeping themselves very still and very present under conditions that required stillness and presence. He knew the breath. He had been in enough rooms with it in the past eleven days to know it the way you knew a sound that had accumulate

“It will hurt as much as I want it to hurt, little girl. Now, be a good girl for Daddy and breathe.” Be a good girl. Like magic, those words unlocked something inside of her and she blew out the air she’d held trapped in her lungs with a loud whoosh. With her eyes still locked on his, she drew in another shaky breath, and another, until her muscles loosened and she realized the pain had faded, leaving behind only a strange kind of fullness. “Good girl. I’m going to move now, but I want you to keep breathing for me, baby.” Breathe. She could do that.

The concern in his eyes made me feel safe. As he spoke, I felt my breath catch in my throat. It was as if I had forgotten how to inhale and exhale. But then, his voice penetrated through the haze of my thoughts and again told me to breathe. Slowly, I inhaled the stale air of the room, feeling it fill my lungs and expand my chest. Yet, as I exhaled, I could sense the tension in the atmosphere. It was a strange and unsettling feeling, and I took another deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that were beginning to flutter inside me.

Max walked out of the interview room and looked at his watch. He had a few minutes before the next interviewee would be there to be placed in the room. He knew the receptionist would do it the way he said, so he went out the back for a minute to get a breath of fresh air. He had a lot of new little details to go over.

He places me on the bed and I take a deep breath but no air comes in or out. Tears stream down my face. “What’s going on?” - he asks me I shake my head and Gabe stares at me with pity all over his face. “Come on, count” - Gabe tells me and I do what dad used to do. Touching each finger and counting. After a while, my breathing calms down and I finally feel better. My judgement is not clouded anymore and I take a deep breath. “You are tired, have some rest” - Gabe says

“Everything is fine.” I didn’t even realize I wasn’t breathing until he pointed it out. “Lisa, baby,” he murmurs, his tone filled with gentle reassurance. “You need to stay with me. Just listen to my voice, okay? Breathe. Breathe for me.” He takes a deep breath, demonstrating for me, and I find myself mirroring his movements. Slowly but surely, my breathing steadies. The tightness in my chest loosens, and I can finally inhale deeply on my own.

“Wake up, girl.” The voice cuts through the fog of sleep, firm but gentle. “Come on now, wake up.” I jolt upright in the trunk, gasping and immediately doubling over with violent coughing. My lungs burn as I struggle to catch my breath, each cough tearing through my chest like fire. “Easy there, breathe slowly,” the voice continues, clearer now. “Focus on my voice, Aurora. In and out, nice and steady.” The shock of hearing someone speak directly into my mind triggers another wave of coughing, but gradually I manage to slow my breathing. Small, desperate gulps of air that slowly become more controlled.

I clutched my ears with my paws, crouched low, trembling, heart slamming against my ribs like a trapped bird. And then… a voice. Soft. Gentle. Feminine. But with a power that stilled everything inside me. "Hey, breathe. Focus on your breathing. Don’t panic. Let the sounds pass through you. Listen only to your breath." I listened. My breath was sharp, ragged, but I held onto it like a lifeline. Inhale. Exhale. Once. Inhale. Exhale. Twice. By the time I reached ten, the world had quieted, as if someone had turned the volume down.

I bent over, one hand bracing against the counter, the other pressed to my chest as my lungs burned. “Aria!” the sudden voice startled me. Before I could even react, footsteps rushed toward me. A hand gently but firmly supported my back, rubbing slow circles as another took the glass from my trembling fingers. “Easy, breathe,” the voice said caringly. “Slow down.” I coughed again, my eyes watering as I struggled to breathe in the air. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said, “You’re fine. Just breathe.” I finally managed to inhale properly, sucking in air as the coughing subsided. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I straightened slightly, still clutching my chest.