The Final Step

She stared intently into the light-grey, sad eyes of a young woman who silently stood in front of her, afraid to move. The brown flared trousers, washed almost to the bald spot, were neatly ironed and slightly concealed her unhealthy thinness. Under a plaid jacket two shades darker than the trousers hung a white blouse, under which thin protruding collarbones were slightly visible. The black, tattered pumps were out of color scheme, even though Mom always said black went with everything. Her thin hair, just below her shoulders, was pulled back into a low ponytail and pinned at her temples with barrettes. She looked at this woman for a few more seconds, and then stepped away from the mirror. Picking up a bag that had been lying casually under a coat rack and taking a deep breath, she opened the front door of her small apartment on the eighth floor. The first step has been taken, the main thing is not to look down.

She was about to press the shabby down arrow button, but she remembered the last time she got stuck in an elevator and began to show symptoms of claustrophobia. She did not know that she was afraid of closed spaces, but in a cramped little elevator without light, which stopped between two floors, it turned out to be much more scary than she could imagine. The master arrived just at the moment when she began to distinctly hear the pulsing of her heart in her ears, and because of her rapid breathing, her head began to spin. He found her huddled in the corner of the elevator and couldn't calm her down for a good half hour. No, this time she is not yet ready to climb this road, she will have to bypass.

As she descended the stairs, she found herself in a slightly windy but pleasantly cool, clear September day. Pausing to bask in the morning sun before the difficult journey upwards to her fears, she felt goosebumps on her skin. No, today they will not stop her on her way to the top, and she will not repeat past mistakes. She had been preparing for this day long enough to overcome all the obstacles, starting with stepping out of the comfort zone of her home.

Walking along the street, she wanted to turn around and go back home several times, but she managed to restrain herself and not break loose. When she arrived at the bus stop, the bus had just pulled up and people were starting to push in. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, she was again able to overcome her fear and enter the bus full of people. Her example was followed by several more people, and she was sandwiched between two men. To her left stood a tall, elderly man in a frayed sweatshirt who reeked of cheap, pungent perfume whose only intended use was to try to mask the smell of cigarette smoke. However, it was not very successful in this task either. On the other side stood a young guy in a tracksuit who smelled of sweat mixed with deodorant. From the sweaty armpits and forehead, she deduced that he was returning from a run. The two men squeezed her so tightly as if they didn't even notice her presence. The temptation to faint was very high, but she was determined to survive these half an hour of the road and not lose consciousness.

Having overcome another obstacle in the form of a cacophony of various sickening smells, she was literally carried to (fortunately) the stop she needed. One step closer to success. It remains to walk ten minutes, and she will be almost at the top.

The road to the top passed through the park, which was especially beautiful in autumn. The trees stood out in all shades of red in the warm September sun. She admired how fervently the birds frolicked in the branches of trees, now chasing each other, now hiding and rustling leaves. She wanted to stay here and spend the daylight watching nature, but she knew she couldn't give up so easily, not after she'd come this far. With a confident gait, she walked along the park road, without stopping or slowing down. When she left the park, she saw a grey, five-story building with four rows of symmetrical windows. Pausing for a minute, she again took a deep breath and exhalation — the only thing she took out for herself from yoga lessons. However, when she decided to move on, her feet seemed to be rooted to the ground, and she was unable to take a step. She froze in place, feeling her throat begin to dry up. No, not now, not when she was already so close. It remains only to reach out to the top, she cannot give up at the last moment. Her breathing began to quicken, and she felt that pulse again right in her head. Her eyes began to ripple, and everything around acquire dull colours. No, not now, she had almost made it to the top. Will she break down again?

Her head was spinning, and her legs started to feel wobbly. She felt cold sweat in her palms and heat in her eyes. She knew that feeling and knew what would happen next — she would faint again and find herself at the very bottom of her path, again in a hospital bed, where she would have to start all over again. With that thought, she closed her eyes, resigned to the fact that she was once again haunted by failure. However, as soon as she closed her eyes to fall down, she felt the warm touch of a small hand in her right palm. She opened her eyes and turned her head to the right. To her right stood a little seven-years-old boy, with a freckled nose and a wide, joyful smile on his face. He looked directly into her light-grey sad eyes and said, “I'm so glad to see you, Miss Sally, will you be with us again? Say yes, say yes!” He happily jumped on the spot, not letting go of her hand.

"I…I don't know, Danny, I thought I'd be with you again, but…" She didn't have time to finish when the boy interrupted her.

"But you are here! You're back! You're not going home now, are you?" his voice was slightly sad, and his bright blue eyes lit up with excitement.

"Yes, I'm back, but I didn't think that when I got here, the memories would wash over me like a wave that would knock me off my feet," said Miss Sally.

"You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened, it was an accident. Only when you allow yourself to let go of the guilt, you will feel better again," the boy said.

"You're right, Danny. You're absolutely right. This is the last and most difficult step I need to take," said Miss Sally. She felt her strength return to her again, as the world around her becomes brighter again. The pulsing of the heart in her ears began to subside, and it was replaced by the singing of birds. She felt herself in control of her body, her arms and legs. She has a second wind, thanks to which she will be able to make this final push and climb to the top of her fear, taking it under control. For the first time in over a year, she smiled.

"Thanks, Danny," she turned to the boy, but he was no longer by her side. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, she made her way to the entrance to the building. As she approached the wooden door, her gaze fell on a portrait of a little boy with bright blue eyes and a freckled nose. Every day they put fresh flowers near the portrait.

“Thank you, Danny,” said orphanage teacher Miss Sally, wiping tears from her eyes and disappearing through the doorway.