The Viral Watchers

Why am I here? How did I allow myself to get into this situation? There are too many people. The noise is too loud. I cannot stand it when people get too close to me and how can I think, how can I process when people are all talking about different things and the music is playing so loud that you cannot even understand the lyrics. This is not good. I fear I may have a panic attack. I need to get outside. People are watching me. Why are they watching me? Can they read my mind? Are they laughing at me? I need to stand up and walk to the door, push it open and step outside. It looks like maybe 25 steps. I'll wait until the next song starts that way I'll have a full 3 minutes to walk to the door. It would suck if the music stopped when I was halfway to the door and people stopped dancing. They would get in my way or I would get in their way while I'm trying to leave. OMG! What if they touched me or I, them? I cannot breathe. It's too hot in here. I'm beginning to sweat. Look at those shoes. I love those shoes. Why can I not be normal? Okay, the next song is starting. This is it. Stand up! Okay, I'm standing. No one is looking at me. Wait! She glanced at me. Why? Oh yes! My bag. I almost left my bag. No! She was looking at someone else. Check my pockets. Okay, now walk to the door. Don't make eye contact. Watch where I put my feet. Don't bump into anyone. Damn it! I'm going to scream if I don't get outside right now. Crap, someone brushed against me. Did they want my attention? Too late for that. Ignore them. Keep moving. Once I'm outside, I'm free. I will breathe again. I will think again. I will live. Finally, I'm at the door. It's locked. It won't open. I'm trapped in here. I know I'm going to scream. Wait! There's a sign that says use the other door. What other door? Oh! I see. I push on it and feel the cool brisk air. I'm almost there. I step outside into the darkness. I can breathe again. I have space. I can smell. I'm alive. I'll be okay.

I'm pushed from behind and I fall to the ground. Someone is hitting me. I scream for help. Why are they hitting me? What did I do? Now they're kicking me. Will someone help me, PLEASE? If they want my money, they can have it. If they want my phone, they can have it. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE STOP! Finally, they stop and I'm left lying on the ground screaming in agony. I'm holding my head. I cover my face. I hear someone say, "What's the matter with him?" Another person says, "Where're his clothes?" Still, another shouts, "Someone call 911!" I slowly remove my arms and hands from my head and open my eyes. It's so friggin hot, I can barely breathe. I move my hands down my body and explore. I'm fully naked for the world to see. My eyes start to focus and I can see people standing all around me. Everyone is pointing their cellphones towards me and recording with their cameras. These viral watchers! Why didn't they stop those bandits? They took everything, even my clothes. Shame on them. My head begins to pound again and I scream in agony once more. This time more animalistic, more from my gut. This scream comes from my soul as my worst fears are confirmed. No one cares. No one will help me.

Then I hear her. A voice like an angel, she sounds like my mother. She's chastising people for staring at me and not helping. She shoves her way past them and covers me with a dirty tablecloth. I can forgive this for now. She's trying to help ME! She uses her hand to stroke my head and tells me I'm okay. That I will be okay. The viral watchers continue to record us never once offering to help. Finally, paramedics and police arrive and they remove me to the privacy of an ambulance. I never really saw who it was that helped me, but I'm forever thankful. One of the paramedics recognizes me and says, "Paul, you're okay now. I'm pretty sure you haven't had your meds today have you?" He gives me an injection and before I drift off, I hear him say to the other paramedic, "Paul is a regular here."