The bathroom smelt horrid, the overpowering stench attacking my nostrils. For a second I thought I could see the waves of stink hovering above the sole stall like in the cartoons I had watched as a child. Dirt, grime, and other unknown substances covered the floor and crept up the sides of the walls. I chose my steps carefully, afraid I would somehow contract some disease by taking one wrong step. After making it through the maze of filth I turned to the mirror. I was greeted with a reflection blurred by countless coatings of water stains.
"I can do this, I can do this. Just breathe, deep breaths." I repeated to myself in a shaky voice.
However, thinking about breathing only made it more difficult. Suddenly every breath I took became a chore. A wave of anxiety swept over me slowly, like someone pulling a heavy blanket over my body. The few anxiety stricken breaths I managed to get met a heavy air that seemed to carry its own faint taste. Judging by my less than ideal surroundings, whatever taste it was carrying could not be healthy to inhale. I made a conscious effort to take long pauses between breaths and closed my eyes to block out the ominous flickering lights overhead. The lights however gave off an equally ominous and annoying hum that only irritated me further.
"You can do this." I assured myself, speaking with false confidence. "You will do this" I repeated again trying to truly convince myself.
I locked eyes with myself in the cloudy mirror. Millions of elusive thoughts and emotions flooded my mind, none of them fully forming, but still very real and present. My brain felt like the suitcase that was packed way beyond its capacity bursting at the seams. My heart was pounding, a deep, soul shaking thump after thump after thump, picking up pace as my inhales became shorter. Suddenly I didn't care what taste or gross follicles floating around, I needed air. I drew an exaggerated breath of air and attempted to slow down the racing thoughts in my head. There's no coming back from this I think to myself. If I go through with this an entire series of secondhand events would follow.
Scared of my own reflection I close my eyes, clenching them tight, tears slipping out the sides. The salty liquid plinko's down the terrain of my face. The vein in my temple pops out as I slowly grind my teeth. A bead of sweat forms at my brow and suddenly all of my pores began to ooze sweat, almost simultaneously. My knees lock and my arms tremble at my side. I reach into my backpack, carefully feeling around. My fingers stop their meticulous search at the touch of cold metal. A single shiver runs through my body as I drop my backpack and slowly raise my right hand. Never had I been so aware of each little movement I was making. My hand stops at the side of my head. The metallic touch felt unnatural as it makes contact with my temple.
I drew one last breath up from the depths of my chest, gradually exhaling. I start a mental countdown.
"Five, four, three, two....one."