Drinking the coffee feels more like a punishment than a cure – The sugar barely cuts through the taste, like sucking petroleum out of a petrol tank with a mint in your mouth. The rousing of my nervous system serves to heighten the paranoia of consciousness, The fight or flight instinct.  I need to get away from this room but I can’t bring myself to leave. I pace back and forth lost in panic. I scratch nerverously  at my scalp, my arms, as if the very air is eating away at me. If i keep going it won’t be long before I break the skin.