Panic ~ Prolougue

Instructions

There I was. Sat right next to Alyssa, my best friend, whilst shaking with worry. I looked up at the ceiling and tried to calm my nerves. The ceiling was white. I tried to figure out what colour white it was; was it egg-white or milk-white? Was it vivid white or warm white? Alyssa looked me in the eye and smiled sympathetically. I swallowed hard as soon as a smile escaped from my lips. The feeling; the look Alyssa gave me afterwards, it said it all. She was worried and so was I. My body felt tight and wobbly at the same time. Everything seemed to be engulfing me into an obese abyss of darkness. Was this really what it felt like to be nervous? I remembered the year three play. I was ecstatic because I had gotten the main part and had three solos to sing. But I remembered the feeling I had when I was waiting behind the stage curtain, and I thought I was going to be sick. The rehearsals were joyous, but the performances were dreadful. Alyssa stared deeply into my eyes, noticing how pale I’d gone. I tried to breathe, but it felt like my chest kept getting tighter. Everything was getting closer… I sank into the cushioned chair and looked up at the ceiling again. A sense of relief passed through me as I realised what colour it was, but the relief only lasted for so long. Pale white, I whispered, Pale and empty, I repeated as the lady stepped out of the door, no colour… no thoughts… no worries. The lady coughed through the microphone that blasted her announcement throughout the whole of the room. “This is the call for Miss Fern Smallwood to room thirteen, Miss Fern Smallwood? Thank you for your appreciation.” She stepped back into the door, Alyssa whispered good luck to me and my mum and dad followed me through the blank, narrow hall. This was the moment of truth. I was about to find out what had been causing me so much trouble for the past few months. I pushed the door open gingerly with a loud creak and shut it behind me, my parents waiting for me in the hallway. There were two people sat in the room. It was a man and a woman. I nervously sat down on the chair and looked at my hands, not willing to look at either two of them in the eye. The man chuckled. “So, is this the ever-so-famous Fern, hm? We have been largely informed of you by your parents for the last few months. Now, I’m sure you’re itching to find out what has happened and how we can help.” I coughed but then regretted it, realising that the people were both staring at me. I did not want to know at all, but the man continued. “We have added up all the data and now know that you have anxiety. We’re not sure how severe, but if you don’t have any panic attacks or other issues anytime this month, then we will be able to assure you that it is not something to worry about. I’m Doctor Williams and this is Doctor Brooke.” The lady, Doctor Brooke, smiled at me and waved politely. I waved back, my cheeks flushing and a hot heat rising to my head. I spotted a small, wooden clipboard gripped tightly in Doctor Brooke’s hand. Meekly and diffidently, I asked, “What is that board for?” without making any gestures or eye contact. I just wanted to curl up in a ball, scream and run away. I hated it when everyone was staring at me, all waiting to see what happened next. From the corner of my eye, I saw Doctor Brooke smile at me. “I hoped that you would ask about my clipboard. There’s no need to worry about it. It’s my Waiting List. It holds all the names of people who we need to treat. Your name is right here at the bottom,” she pointed at my name and grinned. “You are on the waiting list and soon your parents will be informed on which therapist that your family will rely on. I’m afraid the waiting list takes a long time to move up, but if you’re lucky then I’m sure you’ll be at the top anytime soon. Now, off you pop, it’s a very busy business, you see. Please take this flyer.” Doctor Brooke handed me a flyer. Reluctantly, I took it from her hand and slid it into my pocket. Doctor Williams smiled at me. I walked out the door, then hearing their next announcement over the speakers. Mum and dad were in the corridor, doing an excellent poker face. They had heard everything. I couldn’t tell if they were worried or glad, but it seemed like both.