Conflicted

Chapter 1 - Speech

"Phoenix?"

Instant heavy breathing. Nausea. Head pounding. Dizziness.

I closed my eyes and prayed to God that it would end soon. It felt like my airways were clogged full of cotton, making it hard to breathe both in and out. I looked around the room, with my eyes feeling like they were rolling around in my head, everything going in slow motion. I looked towards the ceiling for an escape from the busy room around me. The fluorescent lights weren't helping at all though. It made my head pound more and more each second passing by. I looked down, hoping for it to stop once again. I should have guessed it wouldn't work – it never does anyway.

I heard my name being called a second time. "Phoenix Quinn?"

No. Oh, no. This isn't happening.

I don't want to. I can't. But I have to.

I stand up with my hands shaking like leaves in the breeze, grab my papers with much difficulty and stumble to the front of the room. I turn to face what seemed to be a crowd of thousands of people in front of me, but really was only about 40 people. I coughed and in a shaky voice, I began my speech.

"Good, um, morning everyone," I stuttered. "Today, I will be discussing, um..."

I briefly forgot my topic of interest. I stopped to take a deep breath and stared at the back of the room, hoping for either everyone else in the room or myself would just evaporate into thin air, but I knew that it obviously wasn't going to happen any time soon. As quick as I had forgotten my topic, I remembered it again.

"I will be discussing mental illness, primarily anxiety and depression," I added, so I wouldn't forget it again.

I looked down at my dot points on the paper in my hand and read over it for a second.

Abruptly, there was a warmness rising in my chest making its way to my throat. I placed my hand over my chest and realised.

No, I thought. Oh God.

I dropped my papers and ran out of the room. I could feel the eyes of the people in the rooms all around me staring at my back, but in that moment, I didn't care. I ran to the bathrooms and threw the door of a cubicle closed and flicked the lock closed faster than I thought was possible. Before I could stop it, I had thrown up into the toilet in front of me. My throat burned like hellfire, and my stomach was churning.

I groaned and slid down the cubicle door and sat on the floor. Head in hand, I closed my eyes and focused on changing my breathing pattern back to normal again. My mouth continued to burn, as did my throat. My chest felt like my heart was going to beat straight out of it.

I picked myself up off the floor and flushed the toilet, making sure no one would be able to tell what just happened. I opened the cubicle door and walked over to the basins. The mirror above them reflected my image, and I could see how terrible I now looked. My long, dyed scarlet red hair was as messy as can be, my face was pale and my makeup was now ruined. Great.

Can I go back to the class? I thought. It's so mortifying.

In my rush to get to the bathroom, I had lost one of my Doc Marten boots. One of my $240 dollar boots. I had to go and get it back.

I walked through the courtyard of the university with only one show on. I looked so ridiculous, but it really needed it back. I spotted my black boot over by the beautiful stone fountain.

I picked it up and sat down at the fountain to put it back on and return to class.

I slid my boot back onto my foot and I began the humiliating walk back to the class I had awkwardly run out of to go and vomit out of panic.

The worst part?

After all that, I still had to present my speech.