by Dylan Fain
April 23, 1999
My heart started to speed up as I stared down on all the people. I needed sneakers but everything was spinning. When I got off the escalator, I think I told Julia I had to go to the bathroom. I got on the escalator going up and hoped I�d find my way.
Beige tiles. Looking at them. Searching for an escape. Are they leading me somewhere? Looking up. Everything is beige. My heart is pounding. I�m sweating all over. Everything is spinning. I feel like falling to the ground. I make it to the bathroom.
Water.
I splashed the water on my face and I started coming down. I put my hands on either side of the sink and braced myself. There were people there I cannot see. I looked up and saw myself in the mirror. There I am and I�m okay. My breathing returned to normal. I wet a paper towel and put it in my pocket. I left the bathroom and sat on the bench next to the exit. I saw a payphone and got an idea. I found her card in my wallet and made the call. I heard the therapist�s voice on the machine. �This is what I was talking about,� I tell her recording. �It just happened again.�
I was fifteen.
October 23, 1996
My mother had told me that we were meeting my cousins for dinner. It was my birthday. She told me that they had such a big present for me that my father had to take our old van to pick them up. I couldn�t wait to see what it was.
My mother and I got into her Volkswagen at around six o�clock and drove the thirty minutes it took to get to my favorite Italian restaurant. We parked and I got out of the car. I skipped up to the restaurant and opened the double doors. The hostess smiled at me as if she knew something I didn�t. In the distance I saw my friend Colin. Then I saw Rachel and Julia. Michelle, Susan, Leah. No one had noticed me and it was as if I had walked into a room I was not supposed to be. There was some kind of bubble that separated me from all of my friends. Then I started to drift. I didn�t understand what was going on. Things started moving around the room. I turned and tried leaving but everyone had noticed me by that point. People were screaming and rushing at me. My bubble had popped. My mother grabbed my arm to get me to try and stay but I pulled it from her. I left the restaurant and blacked out on the sidewalk in front. It was only for a few seconds but I was terrified. Nothing quite like this had happened before. My mother lifted me up and we walked back over to the car. I couldn�t catch my breath but I sat down anyway. We sat there for a few moments. She picked up a bottle and said, �Here, splash some of this on your face.� The water dripped down my neck and onto my shirt. I was uncomfortable but back in real time. I fixed my hair and walked back into the restaurant. Everyone seemed happy to see me.
February 6, 1999
I hadn�t left my house for a week. It hardly seemed worth it. Anywhere I could think of to go would only leave me stranded with myself. My mother suggested I start therapy. I was warming up to the idea but remembered last time. And the time before.
May 16, 1991
It had happened all year and it was happening again. I looked down at my bright red lunch tray and all of the food that was on it. Half a hotdog and all of my mashed potatoes. I noticed the perfect circle the gravy made in the middle of the potatoes and knew I was going to throw up soon. I looked around me and saw the big red garbage can in the middle of the cafeteria. Grumpy, the janitor, monitored the garbage and ridiculed the kids who threw out wasted food. I had never thrown up in that trash, I usually made it to the bathroom. I had a feeling I was about to. I felt the hotdog creeping up into my throat and I ran to the middle of the cafeteria and let it go into the trash. After I was finished, I looked up. Grumpy was staring at me. I looked around. Everyone was staring at me. I put my head down and walked back to my table. I put my face to the table and waited for everyone to do the same. This was, after all, the only way we would be dismissed from lunch.