Irrationality
An irration fear sat on his stomach.
“Trenton,” a voice called,”go get me a box of bread out of da freezer.”
Trent cringed. The very accent of his boss went through his head like nails sliding down a chalk board or a knife being scraped against a glass plate. But he did as he was told and began walking towards the freezer. The knot in his stomach seemed to grow with every step. It was the fear of something pressing down on him like some dark invisible force.
He got to the freezer door, but did not open it. Instead, he made a dash for the garbage can as he felt a vile subtance creeping up his esophagus. He made it to the trash can just in time.
A fellow co-worker, Kayla Richton, rushed to his side.
“Are you alright?!”
Trent looked up at her, the taste of bile still on his lips. “No,” he answered. The knot in his stomach was tighter than ever now as the fear of something pushed down on him. He still did not know what it was that he was so afraid of, but what ever it was, it was tearing up his stomach.