The pain with no form. A shapeless suffocation of the soul. As though all her internal organs shook with fear in unison. Grasping for the oxygen of calm, the safety of certainty. When would she feel like that, she often wondered. How did everyone else do it? The jelly in her legs wobbled without any physical reason. No rationale could explain the numbness that held onto her skin. Pricking with tiny needles, poking and prodding. Invisible to the world, but relentless until she no longer concentrated on trying to stop the shaking. An explosion of guttural fright ripped up through her body. Flight launched into action, then realised its mistake. A false alarm. Another one. She knew there would be more, and that knowledge fuelled the making of the next. A circle of tense moments, fizzing and whipping, sent from her nerve filled brain to the tips of her senses.
The only cure was the final end.
The beautiful sleep.