Solitude

A Solitary Meeting

Morgan drags me through the crowd of sweaty bodies, her hand grasping mine tightly so we don't lose each other. I squeeze my tiny and petite body through the cracks in the throng. My chest tightens as I do so and sweat starts to leak out of the glands in my body.

Crowds made me nervous.

The pounding music vibrated the dance floor like an earthquake and I struggled to keep my balance.

Loud noises made me nervous.

The dance floor wasn't particularly packed, I didn't feel like a sardine in a can the way I imagined, but there were still a lot of people. A lot of people jumping and shouting and singing and dancing... if that what dancing was.

People made me nervous.

This right here was my worst nightmare. Metaphorically of course, my actual worst nightmare was a dream I had when I was being chased by a shark on land. I don't understand how it worked but it did. The shark won.

As I'm squeezing myself through a crack in the crowd, the body next to me tumbles and I lose my balance. My sweaty palm loses the stability of Morgan's comfort and security and I fall, the body on top of me.

I feel the air being squeezed out of me and my lungs crushing and thinning to the width of a plastic bag as the heavy weight flops on top of me like a dead fish. After a minute and a lot of fumbling, the body gets up and helps me up, a quick apology and a remorseful awkward hug, before leaving me in the crowd, alone. The only good thing about that exchange was that a lollipop fell out of their pocket, right on to me. Finders keepers.

Panic shoots through me and I try to search for Morgan but I can't find her anywhere. My eyes dart through the dark, the flashing lights illuminating faces for the briefest second but they aren't the one I'm looking for. Instead of standing in the sardine packed dance floor, and allowing the panic to spread on my body like a wildfire, I push my way out to a clearing where I can finally breathe air that isn't contaminated with sweat, fog and hormones.

I give myself a small pat on the back for thinking on my feet and not allowing myself to get trapped in a situation that would have caused the biggest panic attack in years.

I follow the hallway that leads off the dance floor, walking further and further away from the panic attack waiting to happen, hoping to find either Morgan or an empty outside area where I can be alone until I gather the courage to find the exit.

The hallway was dimly lit, a small light in the ceiling every few feet, and completely empty. Doors were open on each side of the hallway and when I peeked in, the lit rooms were empty, some holding furniture but void of people. It was extremely eerie and it felt like the perfect place that someone could sneak behind me, pull me in to one of the vacant rooms and do stuff that shouldn't be done in a club- or anywhere for that matter.

Yes. I'm talking about murder.

Voices sound from the other side of the hallway and a group of men in suits stop at the corner, talking and holding beers. Every instinct in my body tells me to turn away, to run because being lost in the crowd with sweaty bodies is better than being alone with a group of drunk men in an empty hallway, but I don't. Maybe it's because I'm stupid or maybe it's because I'm smart. Smart because I'd rather be in an empty space than a place where claustrophobia and panic attacks form. Or stupid because many different things could happen in an empty hallways when a group of drinking men feast their eyes on a petite, forsaken woman that has no weapon to defend herself with.

For some reason, my mind glazes over the last part and my feet continue forward.

My light footsteps catch someone's attention, the man facing me. His dark eyes find mine and a smile lights my face. I recognise him. Zeus' bad parent. The owner of the dog that my dog has only ever wanted to befriend. Surely he wouldn't hurt me after his dog sniffed my dogs butt.