Lucas's feet pounded against the hard ground, raspy breathing being the only noise he could hear. Every time he started to slow down, his paranoid brain would taunt him. Flashing images of his mangled, twisted dead corpse between his eyes. And so he ran. And ran. And ran.<br/>He ran until his legs gave out, and his chest heaved for air that it couldn't pull in due to pure exhaustion. Next thing he was able to decipher was that he was on the ground, flopping like a fish and inhaling dirt in his attempts for air.<br/>It took a few seconds, but then something clicked. He was having a panic attack.<br/>Lucas was no stranger to panic attacks, with the childhood he had, he had to deal many on his own. He would occasionally be able to recognize one, and then try to calm himself down, but the other times he would simply pass out, or be incapable to move from the ground. Drifting in and out of consciousness.<br/>Still, it never got any better.<br/><br/>The world blurred together, casting everything in a hazy fog. The soft sounds of the forest beginning to fade while the sounds of his rapid heartbeat seemed to grow and grow. Lucas looked at his hands, everything blurring in and out of focus. His hands shook violently, body sending tremors down his spine. The only thing he could manage to do was count to five in his head, and even that was difficult.<br/><br/>It took some time, but he finally managed to calm himself down. The tremors remained, as if to mock him for his weakness, and his body felt heavier than ever. But he was ok.<br/>Lucas slowly got to his knees, adrenaline seemingly gone, and inspected himself. Otherwise than the cut on his leg and his shoulder (that he suspected he dislocated), he was fine. Though not much could be said for his mental state.<br/>"You're ok. Get up. Go home. You're fine."<br/>He chanted this to himself countless time, pushing his weary body up back from where he ran. He pushed the thoughts of It out of his mind so he could just focus of getting home. Luckily for him, he knew the woods like the backside of his palm and his house shouldn't be too far from where he was currently limping.<br/>"Go home, you can do this. There's a bed at home. It's safe. It's ok."<br/>The water tentacles surrounding him seemed to help him move, pushing him up if he ever tripped and moving things gently out of his way.