The floor disappeared beneath me.
“Son… what are you talking about?”
But before I could move—
His body started shaking.
Violently.
His breathing broke.
His eyes rolled back.
And then—
He collapsed.
“ETHAN!”
I ran, caught him before he hit the floor.
His body was hot.
Too light.
Too weak.
I didn’t think—I just moved.
Ran through the house screaming—
“LISA! WAKE UP! HE’S NOT BREATHING!”
My wife stumbled out from upstairs, disoriented, exhausted.
“Mark…? You’re home… what—”
“OPEN THE GARAGE! NOW!”
We were on the road in seconds.
I’ve never driven like that in my life.
One hand on the wheel.
The other trying to keep my son breathing.
“He inhaled chemicals! How didn’t you see this?!”
Lisa pressed her hands to her head, overwhelmed.
“I… I can’t do this anymore, Mark… he does this every night… crying, acting out… I haven’t slept—”
“What?!”
“He’s pretending! Last week he did the same thing… just for attention!”
I turned slowly.
The way I looked at her changed.
“You’re saying… he’s faking this?”
Before she could answer—
A horrible sound came from the back seat.
Ethan’s body seized.
Foam at his mouth.
Limbs jerking uncontrollably.
“MARK!!”
I slammed the brakes outside the hospital.
Didn’t wait for help.
Ran inside carrying him.