Malice Writing Workshop

Prompt Four

"And what brings you here Ms Wells?"

"There's something wrong with me."

"Why do you believe, there is something wrong with you?"

"One does not usually breakdown during the middle of an important meeting."

"Can you please elaborate, explain what happened?"

One minute I'm standing in front of the board, explaining my proposal for the company, and the next minute I'm sitting on the toilet in one of the bathroom stalls with my chest caving in, unable to breathe after having run out midway through the meeting.

The tears wouldn't stop falling, and as much as I continued to pound my fist into my chest I was unable to increase the amount of breath entering my lungs. One of my colleagues tried to console me, I could only hear a few of her soft comforting words in between my whales, for the most part, I don't remember what she said.

I tried to convince myself that I was better than this, I was not weak, in fact, I was strong, even intimidating to some and yet I found myself in a pile of a bubbling mess. I wished I could have restarted that day, ow how much I wished I could have woken up sick, had an actual excuse not to go to work. My life could have stayed on track, I could have stayed the strong powerful woman I was.

The next day I woke up, got dressed, even made it on the train. I walked the few short blocks from the train stop to the office, but when I tried to enter the building, I just couldn't. I even tried to give myself a pep talk, but after an hour had passed I knew I wasn't going to walk back through those doors, and haven't been back since.

"For the life of me I don't understand what happened, that's why I'm here. Do you think you can help me? Can you figure out what's wrong with me?"

"Can you tell me a little bit about your work? Do you enjoy your work? Is it stressful?"

"Well I thought I did, actually, I know I enjoyed my work, I thrived on it. Some would have considered it to be stressful but not me, I loved the challenge, I was good at it too. I could spin a web and pull people in, convince them that my direction would bring them greatness."

"How do you feel since you left?"

"Strange, I really don't understand how I feel, let alone what to do, I suppose I'm still trying to figure that one out. It's all I've been thinking about when I've let myself think about it. That's the other thing, I can't believe a whole month has passed since that day and I've barely left the house. I've gone for the occasional walk and a few trips down to the shops for food, but other than that I've remained in my house and not really done anything. Strange, yes strange is definitely an appropriate word. This is far from who I am, who I thought I was. I live for structure, responsibility; I've always been able to hold myself together. I've even managed to stare down the scariest of men, who ever lived, and make them cower."

"And you don't think you can anymore?"

"I don't really know."

"Do you still want to?"

"I'm really not sure, not anymore. If I didn't have the breakdown I'd still be there, I suppose."

"Now can you tell me about your time growing up, as a teenager for starters, what was it like for you?

"The usual, I made friends, listened to music at a ridiculously high volume. Had a few crushes, kissed a few boys, even a girl once. Nothing out of the ordinary, I never had any violent thoughts, I wasn't one of those girls who cut themselves nor did I try to kill myself."