All The Stories In The World

Claustrophobia

Warning: descriptions of panic attack, mentions of small spaces, mentions of hyperventilation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of firearms, mentions of hostage situation

A/N: This one is short.

Here I go again. The same thing I did yesterday and the day before. My days are starting to run together.

Get up, get dressed, and head for work.

Except today, someone decided to follow me. Someone I didn't recognize. But I paid no attention as best I could. My mistake.

As I leave my work at 6 it's already dark outside. One of the first signs of winter.

A cloth is raised to my face that pulls me backwards slightly before the barrel of a gun is pushed into the small of my back. This isn't good.

"Your really pretty. And I would hate to ruin that face if you make a noise." A voice from behind me could be heard, raspy like they hadn't spoken in a while.

My consciousness is slowly fading. It's all starting to go black. Before I knew it, I was out.

Where am I?

The question going through my head before it occurs to me to try to observe my surroundings. My surroundings that I couldn't see.

My hands are tied!

This is bad. So very very bad.

I did manage to get the terribly knotted rope off my wrists so I could feel around easier. As my hands roamed the surroundings I had a horrible realization.

I'm in the TRUNK of a CAR.

I'm not good with small spaces. My breathing started to pick up and I broke out in a cold sweat. I needed out. NOW. I need to move but I'm frozen in fear. It feels like the space is getting smaller by the minute. The car goes over a bump and I fly up to hit the top of the trunk with a loud thud.

Muffled sounds of two men arguing can be heard but it's getting closer.

"Don't damage her! She's gonna be worth a lot!"

They're planning to sell me!

I can't let that happen.

I frantically search the trunk. It feels like it's getting smaller in here and the oxygen is lessening. I'm getting hot and sweaty.

I'm going to pass out at this rate. I need out.

Finally my fingers catch on what feels to be a locking mechanism.

I need out. Now!

My vision starts to fade to black. My hearing is leaving me. My consciousness is gone until we hit another bump and I slam into the top of the trunk again.

---

That was exactly one year ago today. To this day I am still afraid of small spaces. I feel weak admitting it. But I refused to let it hold me back.

"I am Yolanda Martinez and I refuse to let my fears hold power over me."