During the drive home, Megan began not to feel well. Oddly enough, she wasn’t even thinking about Ted. She was thinking about ice cream. Whether that was the cause or not, she began to feel sick. Stomach cramps hit her heard, but she also began to feel dizzy. She knew she better get home…quick.
Megan didn’t even see the light turn red as she struggled to get control over herself. Another car stopped short, an inch from her door and she snapped to attention. Practically jumping on the brake, she came to a screeching halt in the middle of an intersection. Her head was swimming as she looked around. Angry drivers shook their fists and honked their horns.
“Move it, ya dumb bitch!” one shouted at her.
“SHUT UP!” Megan yelled, putting her hands over her ears. “EVERYBODY JUST SHUT UP!”
She sat like that for close to a minute, blocking out all the noise, all the distractions. Finally, she took a deep breath and went on her way.
By the time Megan arrived home, she thought the worst had passed. However, she had taken only two steps from her car when she vomited. That was the final straw and she began to wail chaotically. Her parents rushed outside to see what the commotion was about and found her standing in front of the house sobbing, the car parked crookedly, vomit on her shirt and tears streaming from her eyes.
“What happened?” Nancy asked.
Megan merely stood there and shook her head.
“Let’s get her inside,” Drew suggested.
With the help of her parents, she shuffled into the house and practically collapsed onto the couch. Drew elevated her feet and fetched a cold compress while Nancy attempted to decipher the cause of the problem.
“I t…th…think I’m…O…OK n…now,” Megan stammered.
“Cool!” Stephen exclaimed. “Megan’s gone postal!”
“You go your room, Steve!” Drew snapped. “You too, Carrie.”
“Should we take her to the hospital?” Nancy asked.
Megan shook her head and Drew followed suit. Eventually, she calmed down enough to tell them what had happened.
“I don’t know too much about these kinds of things,” said Drew. “But it sounds to me like a panic attack.”
“Oh dear!” Nancy exclaimed.
“I’m going to give Tom Hardy a call,” said Drew. “See if you can help her.”
Nancy nodded.
“I think I wet my pants,” Megan said sheepishly.
“That’s OK,” Nancy assured her. “I’m just glad you aren’t hurt.”