I couldn't catch my breath

I know not to head to the subway during rush hour, but sometimes you just get stuck.

Strangers stood shoulder to shoulder. Uncomfortable, "excuse me's" are whispered under everyone's breath. Although some don't even try and be polite, they just push. Everyone pays their $2.75 just to get home; commuters don't pay it to make friends.

Today my legs weren't weary, so I didn't have to push any little old ladies out of my way for the last seat. I decided to lean up against a glass partition and read the travel section of the Star. I wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere but right here.

I wasn't even two stops into my daily, half hour journey when I realized I couldn't catch my breath. It was like my mind was challenging me to breathe a deep breath, but my body wouldn't let it happen. The harder I tried to breathe the more I couldn't.

I needed out. I pushed my way to the sliding doors. I uttered no apologies. It was almost like a drum rythym had picked up in my head to intensify my desperate situation. I felt like I was suffocating.

Christie station's platform was empty. The competition my mind and body was so engrossed in was dropped, so I could take that deep breath that I had pushed my way off the subway for.

I strolled down to the other end of the platform. The stuffy air cooled me off from my self contained ordeal.

I want out of this city. I want out of university. I just want out!