Panic

She wondered if the fitting room was smaller that it was the last time she was here. She could feel the neon lights melting down on her, turning the room into a heated oven. She did not want to try on this white dress. She wished she could just wrap herself up in the black curtains shyly closing the room and run out, run for her life.

She couldn't breathe, the mirrors on the three sides were all staring at her. On every side she looked, there was her face, screaming at her in panic, in desperation. She was drowning, her chest was being crushed by the dress and she was losing her head to the stupid veil on top of it. 

On one side of the quickly tightening room was darkness that foreshadowed her future; she was not prepared to see this future yet. She wanted to rewind the past few years and relive them all over again on an utterly different level. A million things she would do differently, a million people she would hold on to and others she would un-meet.

She became terrified as she realized she will never be able to do that. She will never be able to walk away from her future either. She will never be able to escape.

The last thing she remembers is the bright neon lights blinding her before she blacked out like the curtains of the room.