"Death and Panic Attacks"

            Jack scrambles into the kitchen. He is looking for mom. Without an explanation, I walk out the front door. It is the first time since I’ve been on Long Island that no one asks me where I am going. It is a freeing thing: the wind in my hair, the sound of my own footsteps on the worn sidewalks. For this moment, I decide the pace of my thoughts and breathing, with no nagging mother’s influence. And yet this freedom suddenly seems a choking thing. It leaves me panicked by the overwhelming amount of possibilities out there, just waiting for me to make the one false move that could end my life too. A cold sweat forms on my neck and arms. Death makes freedom seem like a rigged game, like a glass of water that never ends but continually leaves the drinker parched. Death leaves me suddenly hungry for my mother. Get home safely…get home safely…becomes my mantra all the way to Mr. McGee.