What you do not see

"Is it time already?" she asked, her voice almost inaudible, caught at the back of her throat, tight with insecurity that was suffocating her slowly, threatening to swallow her up whole.
"Yes, " he said.
And with that simple word, as if on cue from a maestro conducting a symphony, everything inside began a crescendo. Her heart started pounding so hard that it hurt. Her hands started a tremor that built to rival an earthquake. That deep, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach grew and grew, gnawing at every nerve ending in her body. Her legs almost gave way beneath her when she tried to follow him inside.
Inside, inside where the world awaits.

She almost choked.
But she would not allow herself to fold.

Time crawled as she made her way up.
Every whisper was accusatory, judgmental. Every eye stared vindictively, maliciously, pitifully? Was it pity she saw when she attempted a glance towards those souls sitting there enjoying every moment of her torture? Every moment that was her equivalent of an eternity. Where the insecurity failed, the anticipation she could sense in the air won over. It swept over her like a tidal wave, threatening to whisk away her very existence. Every pore in her body was crying out for air.

She could die now, at this very moment.
But she would not allow herself to fold.