Phoebe leaned her forehead against the stone wall that surrounded the stables. She was hyperventilating, clenching her fists so she wouldn't hit the wall and instantly regret it. Despite her protests, tears began falling down her cheeks in a rush. She clenched her teeth, collapsing onto her knees.
"Please. Please, no, please stop," she whispered to herself, sniffling. She knew her teachers were disappointed in her. She knew of the other students' pitiful glances as they spoke amongst themselves about how lonely she looked when she sat by herself. Why was she so stupid? Why was she so self-conscious? Her cries intensified, resulting in her biting her hand to muffle her whimpers. She brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her free arm around her legs.
The snow was too bright. The birds' chirps were too loud. Her lungs felt like they were collapsing. She could feel herself become dizzy. The dizziness began to increase, getting worse and worse the more she attempted to control her breathing. She knew what was happening, and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to help it at this rate.
Phoebe had experienced sensory overload before, but it had never gone to such an extent. She turned herself around, leaning her back against the wall. She tried her best to focus on controlling her breathing, and it was working slightly. Tears kept pouring out of her eyes, but at that point she was more focused on not passing out. She buried her hands in the snow, leaning her head back.
In, out, in, out, she thought to herself, trying her best to focus solely on her breathing. Ever so slowly, her breathing started slowing down, returning back to a normal pace after about five minutes. Phoebe buried her face in her freezing hands, continuing to cry for some time.
The trees cry in autumn because their hearts are growing cold.