CHAPTER 1
18 JULY 2019, 14:00
THE NOW
She couldn’t breathe, again, it was happening again, the feeling of suffocation was coming back, AGAIN.
She felt like hitting something or someone, any will work. It was the bank and that damn man who tapped her when she wasn’t paying attention, he startled her, it didn’t help that the bank was crowded he looked like…. no she couldn’t go there, don’t think about it, DON’T…. well what was the difference, the feeling was back.
She thought the moments of panic attacks were gone, that she had finally began to be normal and now, in a split moment all the work she had done, all the therapy, had gone to naught.
No she won’t let this beat her, it was just a man, in a bank, he wasn’t that man, ‘breathe”, “breathe Sheila”, it will be fine, it was just a man, nothing scary about him, maybe he was even a father or a brother, well that goes without saying, of course he was a brother.
She inhaled the air again, there that was better, she was in the open and she was fine.
Sheila looked around her, she was outside she realized, she truly had no memory of even leaving the bank but she felt relieved that she was in an open space with lots of cars, then as if the universe was against her, a car flew past her at an outrageous speed, too close for comfort even, it almost brushed her she realized in shock as she started walking backwards, her heart beating furiously, it was coming back, she was having a panic attack right by the side of the road on a bright sunny afternoon and there was naught she could do about it, her eyes teared up, and worse she wore a turtle neck, the damn thing was choking her..
The gap between the years automatically closed, memories resurfaced, images, well she could manage but the voices too, the raw terror, the feeling of who’ll be next, it was drowning, no this was a wrong choice of word, because there had been no water there, it had been dry, no not dry because it had been leaking and they could hear the water, just that they couldn’t drink it, the one they could drink was little drops at a time, long periods in between, so yes drowning was totally wrong in this case, what other metaphor will fit this….funny how she could think metaphors right now, she almost laughed at herself, but how could she when she couldn’t fucking breathe.
“Lady watch where you’re going” someone shouted making her jump, oh my! This was bad, she couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, and worse all the memories she had spent time suppressing came at a terrifying speed, the fear, the cold, she embraced herself, her arms going round her belly, she could smell the room, the sweat, the voices both of tormentors and those who were with her, she felt the walls closing in, she felt her self going down, she knew she was going to faint, right here in the streets of LA, no rephrase in the crowded street of LA.
Oh well! It’s not like this was the worst that had happened to her, was her last thought before she felt her knees give way and her eyes shut.