“...at such moments of extreme panic and anguish you do manage that trick with time: you are at last free from the illusion that time is linear. In panic, time stops: past, present and future exist as a single overwhelming force. You then, perversely, want time to appear to run forwards because the 'future' is the only place you can see an escape from this intolerable overload of feeling. But at such moments time doesn't move. And if time isn't running, then all events that we think of as past or future are actually happening simultaneously. That is the really terrifying thing. And you are subsumed. You're buried, as beneath an avalanche, by the weight of simultaneous events.”

― Sebastian Faulks

Her face turned pale

Her eyes looked as if someone died

She could do nothing but wail

She felt nothing inside

She went into her room

The door slamming behind

The world outside was gloom

But no one seemed to mind

Her breaths were short

Her head was spinning

It was the last resort

Ever since the beginning

She curled into a ball

And hugged her pillow

Hoping someone would call

But her shell remained hollow

The nausea kicked in

She was unable to move

With a tight grip of her shins

There was nothing left to prove

It had lasted a while

She’s used to it by now

Everyday faking a smile

As people furrowed their brows

She doesn’t know why

Or when it will occur

Til next time she says goodbye

Everything goes back to a blur