Cent's Yuenyeung [ Too Much Tea, Not Enough Coffee ]

In the moment, Cent felt like the pain in her abdomen was like a circle of matchsticks. Every little thought would get her mind ratcheted up, and another stick would start orbiting. She couldn't get the imagery out of her head, just struggled to light them in time, casting them off into puddles of the street. She was in that pre-sleep hallucination, that time where everything's so vibrant and quick, where thoughts like nausea like anxiety like fear could thrive, dart left and right, exist for long enough to add a tick of worry to her without staying long enough to be disputed.

A panic attack would have no issue keeping a bug awake for hours, deep and deep into a night with no ending.

The monitor was firelight to a mind driven insane by isolation.