The Journey

My hands begin to shake and

become sweaty and cold.

As I stand to make the arduous journey

to the front

of the room,

eyes of razor blades shoot through me.

They scribble red upon my face

and derail my train of thought.

Now the shaking of my hands travels to my arms,

then my legs,

until my whole body is shuddering

and

my vision is blurring,

and

I start to feel dizzy.

And then…

And then…

I die.

I mean, I faint.