The headache came on without warning.

  One moment Rhiannon was squeezing an avocado between her fingers, trying to decide if it was too soft, and the next she was squeezing the bridge of her nose as an intense throbbing settled behind her eyes.

  Aware that a woman had entered the aisle and was 'patiently' waiting her turn with loud sighs and nail-tapping on her cart handle, Rhiannon felt a flush of embarrassment. She almost abandoned her avocado search—she didn't want to look like she was giving up under pressure—but that felt even weirder. Instead, she forced a small, apologetic smile and dropped the squishy fruit into her basket.

  Rhiannon walked down a few more aisles, annoyed with herself and that the store lights seemed brighter than they had a few minutes ago.

  Worse, she felt like they made her stand out.She should have dressed up a little more before leaving her apartment. This wasn't Target or anything fancy, but still—she could have at least washed her hair or swapped her sweats for jeans.

  Knowing her luck, she'd run into someone from high school who hadn't seen her in years. She could already imagine their polite smile hiding disappointment as they took in her wrinkled clothes, messy hair, and the few extra pounds she'd gained.

  Definitely not the 'Oh, you look so good!' reunion moment anyone hoped for.

  She felt like everyone she walked by was staring at her. She tried to shake off the feeling and remind herself that it was highly unlikely anyone was even paying attention to her—most people were too wrapped up in their own lives to look closely enough and see she was wearing mismatched socks or that her brown hair was a little greasy and flat.

  But the more she told herself that, the more the anxiety grew. She judged people she passed, especially if they wore something weird or did something silly. Wasn't it possible they were doing the same?

  Trying to physically shake off the thought, she adjusted the basket hanging in the crook of her arm. She wished she had grabbed a cart instead. Now her arm ached as the weight of the energy drink cans she had stuffed the basket with pulled against the metal handle and left an angry red dent in her skin.

  It was too late to backtrack to the entrance and switch out the basket for a cart now. She could already hear the door greeter's smug remark: "Bit off more than you could chew, huh?"

  Rhiannon grimaced, shifting the basket again to ease the pressure.

  She stepped aside to let an old woman in a motorized scooter whir past her, silently envying her effortless ride. At least she was almost done, just a couple more items to pick up - she'd be out of here soon.

  Rhiannon continued down towards where the eggs were kept but now her quest for dinner (a craving for scrambled eggs with avocado and toast) seemed more trouble than it was worth.

  As she sidestepped a family that had decided to park their cart in the middle of the aisle while three kids argued about which cereal to get, Rhiannon winced as the pain in her head intensified into a lightning strike into her brain and localized behind her right eye.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  She made a mental note to grab a soda near the register and did an inventory of the contents of the center console of her car, trying to remember if she had any Tylenol or Advil she could take on the way home or if she should swing over to the pharmacy to grab some.

  Rhiannon snatched a carton of eggs without bothering to check and see if any were cracked. The pain was becoming too much and waves of nausea were starting to roll up from her stomach. Some kid across the store screamed and the sound echoed in her ears and bounced around her skull.

  A knot formed in her stomach and her throat tightened. An uncomfortable pressure settled on her chest, and her heartbeat pounded in her ears, each thud making it harder to focus. The names of the products on the shelves blurred together as dizziness set in, and a sour taste coated her tongue.

  Panic rose alongside the nausea, and she swallowed hard, terrified she might throw up right there in the middle of the aisle.

  Squinting against the sharp glare of the fluorescents overhead, she quickened her pace and made a beeline for the front of the store. A man pushing a cart abruptly stopped in front of her, debating which coffee creamer to grab.

  Rhiannon dodged around him, but the sudden movement made the floor tilt beneath her. Before she could steady herself, she stumbled hard into a shelf of cheese. Bags of shredded cheddar and mozzarella cushioned her shoulder as they shook loose from their hooks. She slid down, pain jolting through her knees as they hit the floor. Her basket clattered beside her, spilling eggs and cans across the aisle. Her avocado disappeared under a display of almond milk.

  Rhiannon could hear a man's voice and the shuffle of feet around her, no doubt asking if she was okay.

  A small part of her brain screamed at her, ridiculing her for making a scene. But the growing, throbbing pressure in her head that made her feel like she needed a release nozzle drilled into her skull overpowered that inner voice. Bile filled her mouth as the world continued to tilt to the side; like she was standing in a fun-house tunnel that was pulling forward and elongating until all sounds around her became deformed and stretched. She could feel her face flushed and clammy, despite the coldness of the refrigerated goods nearby.

  Swallowing the acid back down her throat, Rhiannon sank down and curled into herself. She felt hands on her shoulders and arms, applying slight pressure, and she allowed herself to be laid onto her back. She hated the thought that people were making a fuss over her. She was going to absolutely die if she had to be taken out on a stretcher and loaded into an ambulance for everyone to see. Everyone to gawk at.

  Their touch felt like lava on her skin, and Rhiannon forced her eyes open in a weak attempt to regain composure. Her vision was blurry, but she could make out shapes kneeling around her. Something wet was pressed to her forehead. Rhiannon focused on a pair of lips that were moving, but she could not understand what they were saying.

  Her vision tunneled, a thick blackness creeping around the edges and a red haze coloring her sight. The pain intensified, and she became acutely aware of her racing heart, the throbbing behind her eye matching its pace. The overhead lights brightened to halos, and she could no longer keep her eyes open.

  Wishing to tell everyone that something was seriously wrong and that she needed help was rendered impossible. A raw fear spread a cold sweat across her body.

  What was happening to her?

  When Rhiannon tried to open her mouth to speak, her tongue failed to cooperate and felt like it was three times the normal size. She felt a series of pops behind her eye, like little bubbles breaking in the space between her ears, and a rapid pulsating pain surged through her skull.

  She felt heavy, both in body and mind. She couldn't tell if she had tried to open her eyes again. It didn't matter. Everything was black.

  As the pain crescendoed, Rhiannon was acutely aware of her heart beating. She felt one single, hard diastolic pump in her chest.

  And then-

  Nothing.