“Fearless is having fears, but jumping anyway. That’s a quote by Wilhelm Wombat. Hold on, I think his name Wundt. Yea that’s it Wundt. Anyway that means stop being afraid and lets jump”, said Hannah as she sat in the mirror and applied her false eyelashes.

As my best friend and most trusted confidant, she knows my deepest fears. As a student majoring in psychology, she thinks she can cure any mental ailment. After a brief lesson on about fears, she took on the personal task to help me conquer mine with a quote from the father of psychology. I love her with everything in me, but she is a subpar student. I never took the C- grade point average to the heart, until she just mistakenly quoted Taylor Swift as the father of psychology. Nevertheless, this isn’t school and I am not her professor. That is why I took her advise and now I am in my current predicament. 

Sticky. My clothes are sticky. The thin material fitted my slender form fine hours ago. Now, the sky blue sheer fabric feels too tight against my skin. It’s glittering threads reflecting the flashing lights. I stand in the corner of the room hoping to not be seen, however that wasn’t the plan when Hannah suggested we go out. Now, hours later I stand in the corner and critique my clothing. My skirt is too short. The black skater mini skirt resembles the ones worn by cheerleaders or tennis players. As I nervously side step anyone bypassing me, it raises slightly higher than mid thigh. Too much leg exposed. If anything were to happen, I can fall and scrape my legs on the concrete floor. My glittering top is a beacon. In the darken room, its shines and lets others know my location even if I wished not to be seen. I can not run in these heels. Walking upright was a problem, but the sky blue stilettos matched the shirt perfectly. Ignoring comfortability, I chose the cutest option. Now any hopes I may have of running or jumping will have to wait unless I forfeited the shoes. Why didn’t I think of this while getting ready? 

Long brown curls graced my hair and bounce with movements. Hannah gave me the perfect smokey eye effect to my makeup, while coaching me to brace my fears. Now she dances in the middle of the floor, while I hold up the corner. Laughter. So much laughter and things to be happy about, but I can’t find a reason to celebrate. Patrons on the dance floor holds hands as they twirl with glee. A guy tries to dance with Hannah as she pushes him off. His dejected look lasts for barely a second as he moves on to flirt with the girl next to her. Glow sticks and painted body part moves slowly around the checker board lite dance floor. Hannah continues to circle the dancing strangers. She glances at me every so often and motions for me to join her. Again, I refuse.

Sweat beads down my forehead. It gets cold before I could use the sleeves of my shirt to wipe it. I can feel the moister gathering under my arms, dampening the blue fabric. I tried to calm down, but my nervousness continues to cause more sweat to drench the fabric. Passerby’s seem to notice my wariness as they try to avoid the girl in the corner, whom looks like she may be on the verge of a mental breakdown. 

In the furthest corner of the room, I can see the door with its red glowing exit sign. I can see whoever comes in. I need to be able to see every person who enters the building. The hallway a few feet away to my right, only shows a bright emergency exits sign. It’s close enough where I can run out in a matter of seconds. That is if I don’t fall. Along the left side of the wall sits booths. People sat laughing, smiling, and having unheard conversations. A couple sits in one of the eight booths. They are kissing as the multi colored lights paints the woman’s blond hair in shades of red, green, blue, then white before repeating the colors. The music leaves vibrations across my back whenever I lean against the wall. The pub table next to me holds a glass or clear liquid. Condensation rolls down the glass as the liquid slightly dances to the music. My nerves are on a roller coaster spinning faster than the disco ball above us.

Surrounding me is a mix of the different colognes and perfumes people are wearing. They are suffocating. Every breath taking in a scent stronger than the last. I began to hyperventilate and every intake bring toxins that seem to be polluting the air. I can feel my heart beating as if it is sitting on the outside of my chest. Two best friends yell as they are celebrating one of their birthdays. The birthday girl takes shots as her happy birthday hat and satchel glows a neon pink against the lights. I look away to find Hannah. As I look into her eyes, she sees my trembling body. She starts my way as someone from the birthday crew pops the cork on a champagne bottle. The sound sends me ducking to look around. I expected to see people running and trampling over each other in a desperate attempt to escape the club with their lives. A few people stops dancing to stare at the freak crouching towards the floor. Hannah runs towards me as I ran into the bathroom down the darken hallway. The bathroom is empty and brightly lit as I stand in the mirror to catch my breath. Unreadable graffiti written on the once black walls matches my jumbled thoughts. The smell of urine in the room hangs in my throat. My clothes are constricting. Hannah barges into the bathroom and hugs me. 

I can’t stand the crowded club, the music, and the lights. The thought of having to part the sea bodies toward the exit increases my anxiety. The birthday girl comes in with a look of worrisome on her face. In a panic, I couldn’t hear what she said or Hannah’s rely when she ushered her out. The sheen on my face was wiped away by the tears falling from my eyes. “I have to go”, I mumbled. Hannah followed me as I rushed towards the exit at the end of the hallway. Memories flooded my mind of the New Years Eve night when I mistakenly thought the loud popping sounds and screams were people celebrating an exciting new year.