Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: CHALLENGE (08/17/17)
- TITLE: Phobia
By Amy Gaudette
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I had to find some semblance of control, some way I could meet this day head on and be the conquorer. But as of now, I was the victim.
Breakfast somersaulted in the pit of my stomach. I had feared this day for two weeks, dreading the moment I would walk out the door wondering if I would ever return. I wanted to call Mom, cry out for her to come and help . . . but I knew that couldn't happen. After all, I was fifty-one years old, and you can't cry for your mother when you are fifty one.
But what then could I do? Panic already claimed the best of me. All that I had left was an empty shell of who I knew I once was. That someone had been left behind in the dust of one of life's fragile moments.
It was time. I had to move. Face the agony of what this day held and implore the God of Heaven for grace like never before. With palms sweaty, a double dose of deoderant, and thoroughly brushed teeth, I wavered out the front door to my car. Maybe, I hoped, I prayed, my car would not start, but old faithful purred like a kitten. I threw the car in drive and with great trepidation, headed down the road.
There were no accidents to hide behind, no police stopping me for running a red light, and no aliens seeking my abduction. It was, tragically, clear sailing.
I pulled into the parking lot, and adrenilane spiked off the charts. My blood pressure rose higher than Everest. I felt faint and weak and my legs wobbled like a newborn colt.
I walked to the front door, stopped. I couldn't breath, couldn't move. Frozen, my hand unable to open the door. In that very moment, I felt a hand tug on my arm. I started, looked down at the frightened little face that looked up, and recognized Jenny, one of my students.
“Hello, Mrs. Danes,” her little voice piped up. “You have to go to the dentist, too? Good, I'm going to stay by you. You're not afraid of anything!”
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