Panic

The world has sped up. I feel it spinning around me, raindrops stinging my face like tiny needles of glass, each one piercing my heart. The walls around me crumble into dust. I search for somewhere to hold on to keep from falling, but my fingers grasp empty air.

I try to remember to breathe, but my chest weighs too much. Nothing is the same. Everything hurts. In my mind I see the upside-down car pushed to the side of the freeway today. I see the tremendous splash it made, a fountain of millions of stinging needles. I wonder what it was like. I wonder what to do now.