words per minute
20
singhshyam
00:00
Speed
I try to speak. But, only a vulgar noise escapes my mouth. The receptionist looks at me in a simple confusion. She asks if she can help. I instinctively try to say yes. Noise, uncontrollable random noise. Is all that comes out. My thoughts seem intact and normal as ever. What is preventing me so? A comforting thought flashes through my mind. If I cannot speak I can still write. So, I grab the first writing utensil I can find in my immediate vicinity. I scribble briefly to test its quality. I surely must be able to communicate in writing. Placing my hand firmly against a sheet of paper I imagine the word "test" and I begin to write it down. Or so I attempted. I scribble and move, shaking with each motion. Stress begins to consume me. A stress of a magnitude more than I have every experienced. A wave of pure unadulterated fear strikes me in the briefest of moments. What if I cannot communicate? What if I'm never the same? I sit in my chair unable to move. Save for a constant shivering. I scream inside. I am completely and utterly trapped. Trapped not by some physical object. But, by my own mind. My only worry is not for myself. Oddly, it is only about the others. How will they react? How will they handle me? I have devolved in to what I can best describe as an animal.