I sat at a corner in the reception area as my sister went into the offices. As I waited, I was again plagued with panic. Panic of how we were going to leave from here. Was I going to get back in that steel cubicle willingly? When my sister ushered me into the steel cubicle downstairs, I had no idea what it was or what riding in it would do to my psyche and my stomach. Now that I knew, my mind was busy weighing other options that may be available, to get me back downstairs? Were there stairs I could use and if so, was my sister willing to walk down the fifteen floors with me? I was toast. That was not going to happen.
I gathered all my courage and when we started entering the steel cubicle, I literally ran inside so I could lean against the back wall for support. My sister must have thought I lost all my marbles, but she did not say anything. She was very diplomatic. Always cool and collected. I guess she already knew our personalities were like day and night. She had always been smart, focused, polished, confident with zero drama. She was more like our father. Me? Well, well. Lets just say I was related to her and lets leave it at that. Shall we?
We made it home without incident but I swore to myself I was not going to anyplace like that anymore, and if I did, I was going to wait in the lobby on the ground floor or sit in the car with the driver. Even an 11 year old has their limit, don’t you think?
