Empty Notebook

The feverish faces that blipped in and out of my focus were extremely alarming. They each interrogated me about my aspirations for the future. I failed to speak. The voices became louder and louder and reached a crescendo that took my hearing away. I stood there staring not speaking nor hearing their words, nevertheless my anxiety was heightened by the spit that shot from their mouths and the sweat that flung from their brows. I tried to close my eyes, but they were there right behind my eyelids taunting me with incongruous facial gestures. My body began to crumple inward and if I had had a tail it would have curled between my legs. Then my body began to shake and I felt like breaking down and crying, but I couldn't. What I was feeling was too heavy for my tear ducts. It was a lifetime of not knowing my purpose. It was too many unanswered questions and indecisiveness. I was just an empty notebook gathering dust on my desk.