Rushing into my car, I’m unable to breathe.

I watch myself sweating through the rear-view mirror, tugging at the neck buttons of my shirt as I tip toward the point of hyperventilation.

“Fuck…” I mutter, grabbing a bottle of water from the dashboard and gulping down the whole content but feeling extremely nauseous later.

Resting my head on the steering wheel for a while seems like the only thing to do now. And it does relief the nauseousness a little before I finally find the courage to ...