When dealing with a stressful situation, there’s only two things a person can do: face it head on, or run away and not look back. Sometimes however, one of these two options will impose itself, making you unable to make a choice.
They call it the “fight or flight response.”
Suddenly my whole perception of the world changed. Matt was a threat to me, and living with him started to feel like a nightmare. His apartment became this hostile place. It was in the air, all around me. As I slowly woke up last night, I noticed how sweaty my body was. My clothes were all wet, even the bed. There was an indescribable sensation of needing to run away. My mind was playing tricks on me. I’m in a deep phase of denial, but I can’t overlook the things Matt has done anymore. How naïve was I to think a person like him would be trustworthy? As far as I know, he didn’t care about anyone else but himself. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact he was once married and had a child.
There’s something discomforting about night time. I never understood where most of my anxiety came from, but last night, I did. I was put on alert because I was in a dangerous situation; one that I couldn’t control nor adapt to. That tense sensation in my stomach, that heightened sense of awareness about everything going on around me, that slight fear and sense of dread. The symptoms couldn’t be more obvious. My body turned its full attention to survival. I had to find a quick way out of Matt’s decaying, treacherous, looking-glass world.
Without wasting any minute, I immediately decided to start packing. Most of my things were in Matt’s bedroom, so there was a huge possibility I’d wake him up as soon as I opened the door. And that’s what happened. I opened the door, and as I stepped in I noticed him wide awake, startled and disturbed just like me. I froze for a minute, my eyes fixated on him. I could barely see him in the dark, but his piercing blue eyes were glowing, staring right at me. He asked me what was going on and I told him I was leaving. I walked to the closet, opened it and started grabbing as much of my clothes as I could. He swiftly jumped out of bed to stop me. He ran up to me, gripped my wrist and roughly spun me around, shoving me against the wall. I heard a loud bump as I felt the back of my head streak the closet door frame causing me great affliction. My vision became fuzzy and I collapsed.
Matt turned on the lights and put his hand behind my neck. The bedroom lights blinded my sight. I was in deep pain. My drowsiness got even worse, and my vision gradually declined. I felt numb and then, I was out.
Felix Eberstark 