Survival of the Fittest

Chapter Eleven - The Actor

I wake up slowly.  I moan as I feel my body ache.

Why does my body hurt?  Why is it so hot out?

I can feel the heat of the day hit me and I hate it.

What is that?  Am I outside?  Why in the world would I sleep outside?

I'm an inside type of girl.  Inside where it's safe and always the right temperature, where there are no bugs, no dirt, no bacteria.  Ugh. The day is too hot. 

The sound of a bird...no a number of birds force my eyes open.  Panic.  Pure panic sets in when I take in my surroundings.  I'm surrounded by jungle.  There are trees and bushes as far as my eyes can see.  My vision is blurry because of the brightness of the day but it only takes a couple of blinks before I can see perfectly.

"Stop it.  Stop it.  Breathe."

I take a couple of deep breaths and finally start to notice things around me. My body hurts and I feel heavy.  I'm strapped in a seat and it hits me.  I was on a flight.  I was on a plane.  I look around and finally focus on the wreckage around me.  I can't hold back the tears as I look down to unbuckle my seat belt to crawl out of the seat that saved my life. 

I fall down as soon as I try to take a step.  My hands land on dirt and leaves and I stumble back.  Too much.  There is too much here.  I see something move toward me and I scream, jumping back as I recognize it as a tarantula.

Oh my god, this can't be happening.  I can't be here.  I'm not here.  I'm on the plane, this is just a nightmare, a horrible nightmare.  I pinch myself repeatedly, on my arms and legs but I don't wake up.  I slap myself across the face and it stings because my cheeks are wet with tears.

"Help!  Please!  Help me!"

I yell at the top of my lungs and look around but I don't see anyone.  There are bits of the plane around me.  A couple of seats, and a random shoe.  I look away from the big piece of the plane near me when I see a body.  I go back to my seat and bring my legs up to hug them.  This seat protected me from a crash, it can protect me from a tarantula. 

How did I get here?

***Flashback***

"Amber, this is a great opportunity for you."

I moan as I fall onto her couch, covering myself with a couch cushion.  I don't want to do this.  I don't want to go to South America for a 45-day shoot.  I've never been and all I can think about is their heat and their germs, their foreign germs.

"Meeeeeera."

"Stop with the whining.  This is a great opportunity for you."

"You have to say that because you're my agent and you get a cut."

She laughs and I pull the couch cushion from my face, sitting up.  I know she's right.  I've already agreed to this.  I will not let my...disorder prevent me from following my dreams. I always get anxious before a new job.  A new job comes with new people, new locations, germs, germs, and more germs.

"Did you tell them?  Did you explain?"

Meera nods and I see the pity in her eyes like I always do right before a shoot.  I love her and she understands this isn't me just being a snob.  She stuck by me when a lot of agents wrote me off as being too picky or snobby.  Meera became a friend and actually took the time when I got anxious and had panic attacks before new jobs came up.  She knows I'm a germaphobe because I suffer from anxiety and a lot of the time that comes with depression.