Her Heart Succumbs to the Pressure

I am scared, she thought to herself.

Seated in a soft beanbag chair, her arms were wrapped tightly around her knees. As if trying to hold herself together, she sank lower into the chair and wrapped her arms tighter.

I’m scared.

Her heart raced as if running a marathon even though she remained completely still. She let her head tip back against the chair and closed her eyes, letting out a soft, shaky sigh.

Bloop, bloop. . . bloop bloop bloop bloop, the computer rang as emails poured in. She didn’t lift her head or loosen her arms, but let out one last sigh.

I’m not sc. . .

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