New York City. New freakin' York City! I should be excited, but instead I'm frightened. I can't breathe. I'm trying to get oxygen into my lungs but I feel as though they are refusing. I feel my whole face lighting up like a Christmas tree. Panic attack, perhaps? The last time I had a panic attack was in the 3rd grade, before a school play. All of a sudden I felt the cold pavement on my arm. Had I fallen? That was the last thing I remembered.
I woke up in a hospital bed, with a tall shadow hanging over me. " Sure was quite a fall you took" he said loudly, " What's your name sweetheart? Paramedics couldn't find any form of identification on you. It's dangerous to walk around like that, you know?" Oh goodness, I have forgotten my name. I know that it starts with a C...Ca..."Cara!!" I managed to yell out, "Cara Winston". " Well, Miss Winston, you experienced a minor panic attack," Minor? I thought I was dying! "It probably won't happen again. Hopefully. But if it does, I'll have to take a closer look. You can leave as soon as you're ready." I got up as soon as the doctor left the room. I've got a lot to do. A new life to begin.
YOU ARE READING
Tortured Voices
Roman pour AdolescentsA story about a young girl studying to be a teacher but also discovering for the first time that she has a mental illness. Will she be able to handle the voices in her head?
