The Agoraphobic

She went to the window. Close enough.

Breathe.

She was safe in here.

She loved birds. Flitting to feeders. They weren't her feeders; Gary at number 5 topped them up. A sympathetic neighbour. He knew she liked to watch them, entertainment in a dull day.

She'd known Gary of old. He could see that she was incapable. He understood that if she could she would, but physical fear wracked her body just stepping onto the doorstep: it was debilitating. She hated it: hated its restriction; hated her weakness, her lack of courage.

Gary's kindness buoyed her. But the feeders were empty. She felt the anxiety build, the guilt. It had been days. She wondered if he was alright. Any normal neighbour would have gone over to check.

She couldn't. But it was day three...

The more she thought something was wrong, the more she wound herself up. What if he was lying on the floor? She didn't have a phone number for him. She twisted her hands with anxiety. She should do something. Now! Call the police? Say what? "I've not seen Gary top up the bird feeders. Can you send someone?" No, she couldn't do that. But there was no-one else really she could ask. Her brother, Tom would dismiss it as hysteria, tell her to pull her socks up!

The more she thought, the more she worried.

She would never be able to live with herself if she did nothing. It just wasn't right. Gary...where are you? But to leave these walls...

She took deep, deep breaths. She opened the door.

Breathe.

Lights splintered her vision. She closed her eyes.

Breathe.

She wished Gary lived closer!

Breathe.

Foot down.

Don't panic! Breathe!

And slowly, slowly, she inched forward, squinting, breathing.

It was a voice that stopped her progress and jolted her with fright.

"Susan?"

The flood of relief was enormous.

"Gary?"

Pause.

"What are you doing?"

Disbelief.

She was near collapse, shaking.

"Looking for you."

Silence.

"I've been ill."

Then, "You left the house. For me."

Statement.

"Yes. I've been worried."

She felt the warmth of his arm around her like a lifebelt.

"You're okay?" she asked, eyes closed.

"I am now," he replied.

***

366 words