The Echo of the Slam

Dear Delyara, In this quiet office, a door slammed three floors up. To everyone else, it was just a noise. To me, it was a gunshot. My heart hit my ribs and my breath vanished. It’s been years since I lived in that house of fear, but my nerves still haven't gotten the memo. I’m writing this to tell my pulse: "It’s okay. You are safe. That was then, this is now."