Chapter 2: When Breathing Gets Weird

"So please do it like this for me: one, two, three, four... breathe in. One, two, three... breathe out. And exhale: one, two, three, four."

"Just breathe, and then your anxiety should melt away," said Sarah, Jason's new therapist.

Okay, got it. It seems to actually work! I won't fucking mess this up!

Huff. Huff.

Huff. Huff.

Yeah, that's me, looking at someone's car driving by, wondering what to do. Should I wait for them to park? Should I key it? Should I steal it? My mouth is watering. The thrill—it's something I can't get enough of.

And what's this? A woman in the vehicle. Let me get closer, see what's up.

Wait... no, no, no. What am I thinking?

I need to do the breathing now.

One, two, three, four... huff.

One, two, three... huff.

Jason walks in front of people in the most obnoxious way, breathing heavily—HUFF, HUFF. He looks like someone who's suffocating, but so serious and focused at the same time.

One, two, three, four... huff.

One, two, three... huff.

HUFF. HUFF.

"I am the focus. I am the breath. I am the one who will not get arrested—nah, fuck that!"

So he huffed and puffed on his way home while onlookers thought this man was borderline schizophrenic. His eyes were red, his face serious but uncaring of the stares.

Anything but acting out, he thought. I need to come up with a good story for Sarah next time we meet.

CRASH!

He looked up and saw that someone had thrown a stone at a parked car. It was night, and he wondered what the hell was going on. He was torn in two directions.

Should I go investigate?

HUFF.

Or should I just leave it alone and go home?

HUFF.

He started breathing heavily as he passed by the car.

One, two, three, four... huff.

One, two, three... huff.

One, two, three, four... huff.

One, two, three... huff.

HUFF. HUFF.

Nah! Fuck this!

He smashed the rearview mirror and started looking into the car. Hmm, this person kept it spotless. He jumped into the ride and hot-wired it.

Seems I couldn't control it. Hmm. Now what? I don't want to go to that office with bad news, and for once, something a therapist told me to do worked. I think I should get out now...

VRROOOM!!!

Nah, let's get this shit!

Jason started driving insanely fast and got on the highway. No plan, no worries—and breathing was a thing of the past.

When he merged onto the highway, he noticed that some people were racing, and he joined them. His hot rod blazed forward.

VROOMMMM!!!!

VROOMMMM!!!!

Let's get it!

He started slamming into the other cars and went barreling forward, pushing for second place. These other racers were just as crazy as him—he could smell it on them. Some slammed into each other, others threw oil behind their vehicles, some used guns. It was hell, and it escalated quickly.

The first-place guy and Jason slammed into each other multiple times, then started moving toward a bridge. The finish line was at the other end, where a large crowd of punk-looking people had gathered. They were neck and neck, crossing the line together in a tie.

Jason climbed out and thought to himself, Well, hmm, at least that wasn't too bad.

Until some of the other racers pointed out that he wasn't someone they knew. Some of them were pissed that he'd finished ahead of them.

"Come on, man, where did you come from, huh?!"

In this gang, you couldn't intervene in their fights. It was three versus one, and it started to rain. And then pour.

"Yo, you guys still want a piece of me?! Come the fuck on!"

Jason waited for them and entered a boxing stance. They came at him one after the other.

I love this fucking shit. You just made the night a whole lot more interesting.

They were confused but continued.

Slip. Duck. Punch.

It wasn't a pretty sight. Jason pummeled them.

And when he was about to curb-stomp one of them, the guy started to breathe.

One, two, three, four... huff.

One, two, three... huff.

One, two, three, four... huff.

One, two, three... huff.

HUFF. HUFF.

He was having a panic attack.

The rest of the gang was shocked by the fight but relieved that their member didn't have his teeth shattered.

Jason went home, sullen. He thought that today would have been a day filled with nothing but improvement. Even with his excessive breathing, it didn't seem to have helped.

Impulsivity... I have to talk to Sarah next session.