A SHORT BURST BECAUSE SOMETHING WILD HAPPENED AND THE WORLD NEEDS TO KNOW

Okay yadda-yadda-yadda "I've been gone for several months", yadda-yadda-yadda, "I need to be better" yeah the usual whatever this is NOT the point of this relaxing afternoon lounging session at Leah's Lounge. Oh no, no, no, no, no. This is URGENT. This is EVERYTHING. This is yet another wild experience in my dumb, typically mundane daily life.

Story time: I was TRAPPED in a single stall bathroom, and I almost died. 

Well, part of that is true. The emotional trauma was equivalent to dying, frankly. The fear and worries and everything else along with it was too, too much. But I survived. Here is the situation: 

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Mid-afternoon, Martha Parham Hall

Leah arises from her desk at work in order to use the restroom. She walks to the bathroom. The bathroom is a single stall. The bathroom is again. There sits a divider between the toilet and the door to give some illusion of privacy despite people using the bathroom with the door open more often than not (something that still haunts me to this day). 

Martha Parham has aged. Her halls are haunted by student's fears, student's memories, and student's experiences. Martha Parham is probably haunted. Maybe that's why the situation happened. It was not an accident. It was intended. Martha did this. Martha did this. ☠ Ṁ̶̭̞͚̰̤A̴̼͕͈͑́Ŗ̸͖͚̘̐͑͝͝T̸̘̲̤͚̒͒̀͑H̴̫͑̀̆A̸̦̭̼͗̾̏̈́̾͜ ̸̘͛́̈́D̷̦͝Î̷̼̭͆͒̔͝D̸̠̝̭̖̹͆̌̒͋͝ ̵͇̺̲̓̀͒͜ͅT̶̡̥̺̿̔̓́̅H̷̦̘̤̊͂͘I̵̞͕̚Ş̴̣͒͛̈́͘ ̶̥͉́̀͜ ⛥

Leah enters the bathroom, and spends a few minutes in there. She arises to open the door. 

THE DOOR WILL NOT OPEN

Our heroine, the bright and beautiful Leah Suzor, is overridden by fear. The door knob has loosened. It is spinning freely but will not tighten. If the door was opened, it would tighten. But it was closed. And it was locked.

Fear washed down Leah's spine.  It was like a time machine took her back 12 years. She's at the daycare center her mother works at. She's trapped in the bathroom. She's too short to reach the lock. She's too tubby to jump high enough. She's afraid and alone.

A new light enters her eyes. A fire burns within. 

NEVER. AGAIN.

Leah begins slamming on the door, in similar fashion to a gorilla. She's loud. She continues slamming on the door with her fists. Footsteps are heard, and the door slowly opens.

She's free. 

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So yeah, this is a story of resilience, of strength. Of overcoming the ghost of Martha Parham. Of fixing the doorknob and putting up a warning sign designed by hand so no one would face the same fate. Of beginning to write the script for the Disney movie sure to be adapted from my journey, which sparks the same level of inspiration as 127 hours, without me having to cut my arm off. 

Welcome back to the Lounge. I've been reborn since my brush with death. And I promise to write more. Maybe. Idk.