This isn't weird.

Somewhere Safe

 The drive to work had been harrowing. None of the familiar road signs made any sense. Every sound was simultaneously too loud and too quiet; every other car seemed impossibly close. The concept of speed had become incomprehensible. Was she driving too fast, or even moving at all?

When she didn't see the red light, the blaring of horns as an oncoming truck swerved to miss her was like a gunshot right next to her ear.

The fact that she managed to arrive at all felt like a miracle. It took a protracted effort to remember how to put her car in park. Her shaking hands dropped her keys on the floorboards. She couldn't manage the effort to pick them up.

Millie didn't remember crossing the parking lot; she was just suddenly pulling open the front door and stumbling in. It was all so impossibly loud. A chorus of shrill beeping checkout scanners, the cacophony of a few dozen chattering shoppers, the dissonant drone of what should have been easy listening pop music. Her entire body was sweating. Her chest was excruciatingly tight, her heart pounding much too fast. Her lungs couldn't move any air, no matter how hard she gasped. She wondered in earnest if she was dying. The force of gravity was suddenly overpowering. She staggered a few steps toward the nearest counter and tried to catch herself.

"Millie? Millie! Are you okay?"

The voice sounded miles away. She looked up to what was definitely an infinite amount of eyes staring at her. The roar of the background noise was gone all at once, replaced instead by a high pitched ringing that bored straight through her skull. Everything was spinning and swimming and out of focus. Her vision flickered between perfect blackness and blinding lights. The ground was getting closer.

Somebody caught her. They lowered her gently to the floor. She couldn't make out their face. People were gathering closer. She could feel their eyes.

"Give her some space!" The person held onto her, squeezed her hand. "Millie, breathe. You're okay. You're gonna be okay. It's gonna pass. You can do this. Inhale... exhale... Just like that. In... out... you're doing great, Millie, just keep breathing."

The ringing began to fade. Her vision was returning, but she was disoriented; she couldn't make sense of her surroundings. A man was holding her. Did she know him? His voice was soft and calm.

"Should we call an ambulance?" somebody asked.

"No," he said. "I don't think she needs a hospital. It will pass, just give her a minute. Millie, can you hear me?"

Millie blinked several times. She tried to speak, but couldn't tell if any words came out.

"I can take you somewhere safe," he told her. "The people there will help you. Do you want that?"

"...Okay," she heard a faint voice reply, then realized it was her own. "Okay. Yes."

Two sets of arms were lifting her up, holding her steady, leading her somewhere. They ushered her into the passenger seat of an unfamiliar car. The smell of clean leather seats was foreign and soothing. The man handed the other person a business card. She couldn't hear what they were saying.

The car was moving. The tears started. The tears stopped. The tears started again. His hand was squeezing hers. It was soft and warm. Time was passing, or maybe it wasn't. No, it was passing. The world was coming into focus, sort of. She recognized the man. How did she know him?

Millie somehow managed to make her vocal cords work. They were raspy and weak. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"The foundation I work for funds an emergency mental health unit up in Salem," he explained. His voice made her feel safe. "They can help. They'll take good care of you. It won't cost you anything."

She struggled to connect the dots, to make sense of everything. The picture was slowly coming together, but it confused her. "I thought you were an accountant," she said.

"Nonprofits need accountants, too," he replied. "Everything is going to be alright, Millie. You're going to be okay."