I can feel the heaviness again. I am driving down the road at ninety to nothing, flooring it so I can get home, so I don’t have to do this in the middle of the road alone. My sister’s there. She knows what to do, what to say to me to make me begin to calm down. Even if I don’t tell her what’s going on. There is nothing here, but blackness and my mind is pacing back and forth. I keep trying to figure out what triggered it this time so I can know not to do whatever it was again. But each time it’s something different. Each time the “thing” that makes me feel like I am losing control changes. I can’t pinpoint anything anymore. I can’t figure out what it is this time. All I can see when I turn around each corner is fail, Fail, FAIL. Like nothing I’m doing matters and the sea of brackish water is consuming my lungs when I am mute. Like all it would take to make all of the tension and pulsating stop would be making a stop by “Blunt Guy’s” house. I could waste away into the pot and the alcohol and, for a little while, I wouldn’t feel like I was dying. The offer is so tempting. Then I think of Jake and my mentor and what they would think of me if they knew all of this, but I can’t take all of it anymore. I look in the mirror and I see a stranger, someone who could not possibly be Nicole, someone who should not still be here in this town, someone who should be gone by now. And Jo is the only one who really understands that I can’t be in this house anymore. That even driving is a task and my chest is still heavy and stomach churning as I pull in the driveway and try to breathe, breathe, breathe.