The First Attack
The morning of one fall
I walk to the usual stand up call
With the smell of coffee
As my constant company
The formal greetings of ten soul less voices
On the screen pops George’s face
The stress lines betray his fake smile
“Oh God! Not Again”, I think
It starts like every other day
Notes, explanations, negotiations, arguments
It is 10:02
I am typing, typing fast
The lights and the screen in front of me flicker
And suddenly George is Lucifer
The always air-conditioned room becomes hot
The walls are closing in
The room is shrinking,
I am sweating
I am not able to breathe
Someone next to me speaks
But, I hear him scream
Like an alarm’s shriek
The walls are closing in, the room is shrinking
Why am I sitting?
“Get up! Run! Leave the room”,
A voice inside me screams
My legs are frozen still.
The walls are moving in faster
The room feels like a volcano
I am going to die.
“Get up and leave”, the voice inside me commands
It gets louder, pounding my ear drums
“Get up now”, it screams again
I almost obey, wanting to Flee
I move an inch of my foot.
Everything stops, still, no movement
The temperature dropped
Lights turned on
The screen, back to normal
The room, no longer shrinking
No screams, it was all silent
A voice asked, “So Bindhu, how is stage 4 progressing?”
I turn slowly
With my pounding heart
I look at screen that says 10:03
What happened?
What was that?
My steady voice betrays my anxious heart
I say, “it is good. Everything is fine”.
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