I can imagine my mother whispering in my ears to "calm down, it's all going to be alright." 

But I can still hear the sound of whips and chains digging into someone's flesh behind the walls. When I hear the screams, the walls start to close in. Then I want to curl my hands into fists as I get the sudden urge to punch the cold, hard ground beneath me. I'm cursed with this constant fear that we are still moving, but in an extremely slow motion. 

It's bad. Really bad. I start panicking and my mind searches for a way to escape with a weird system of method I made up in my brain. My stomach starts to hurt, adrenaline pumps and I want to scream the fear that is built up inside me.

I want to scream so loud it becomes not a cry of fear but a roar of one who has been made stronger of life's challen- 

I start to hear the elevator make a "ding" sound. Thank goodness, I think to myself as I am the first one to walk out of the elevator. I massage my neck with my hand, to get rid of the tensing pain. I enter my office located in the maze of hallways, and plop down on my chair. What a great start to the morning.

Yes, claustrophobia is a bitch.