Panic Attack

• Gemma Wouters, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2015

The world around me spun, and everything blurred, until I was inside the glass box.
That suffocating glass box.
Even though somewhere in the back of my mind I knew what was coming, my body still stiffened when the water started trickling in.
I struggled against the straight jacket tying my arms. The straight jacket I wasn't wearing before.
My chest felt constricted, like my lungs were getting smaller and letting in less air.
The need to break free suddenly heightened, and in desperation I rammed my body against the glass; over and over, trying like anything to escape this nightmare.
The ice cold water numbed my legs as it reached my knees, and I screamed in frustration as I hit the glass again, to no avail.
My breaths escalated, fogging the glass as the water continued to rise.
I kept screaming out, even though I knew no one would hear.
The water had soaked through my jacket now, the cold stinging against my skin.
I had to get out.
My reflection in the glass looked back at me, the desperation clear on my face.
The water was up to my neck now and I struggled to keep my head above the dangerous waterline.
Suddenly beyond the glass, I saw something move. It was my mother. She stood, staring at me, her head slightly tilted, like she didn't recognise me.
I tried to talk to her, to scream at her to get me out, but my mouth filled with water.
I took one last breath and submerged myself as the water reached the top of the tank.
My mother took a step forward, hesitantly, and suddenly I was surrounded by so many other faces…my older brother and younger sister. My grandparents, family and friends. Their blank expressions stared at me, like they couldn't work out who I was or what to do.
The pressure of not breathing pounded against my skull like a bass drum at a concert. It felt like my head was going to explode, and I opened my mouth, letting the water flood into my lungs at a rapid speed.
I felt relief, the pressure that was building inside my head was gone and I floated aimlessly, staring back at the people outside.
I focused on my reflection in the glass and noticed I looked as blank as the people surrounding me did.
I leaned my forehead against the glass, accepting my inevitable death.
The glass cracked.
It shattered and collapsed, crashing around me in a flood of glass and water.
I crumbled, my knees hitting the ground as my gasp echoed around the room and I violently coughed up water.
The people around me vanished as I cried out at them to help me.
I leaned forward, the straight jacket restricting my movement.
My body was wracked with sobs as I realised the horrible truth.
I was all alone, once again, a prisoner to my own anxiety.