Escalaphobia

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"In the shadows of progress, I found myself trapped, my steps haunted by the silent roar of escalators I could never conquer."

With the state of the country's economy, these past few days have been really hard as a student. Amid the struggles of school life, I decided to take a break and travel home to stay over the weekend. I was so relieved upon reaching home; immediately, I entered the kitchen and ate. You should have seen the way I devoured the food; my mom just sat there smiling as she watched me eat, her face expressing, "So you really missed my food."

It was a short break because in the blink of an eye, Sunday had already arrived, and I needed to return to school on Monday, which was the next day. In the afternoon, I was on my phone when my mom came and asked me if I needed foodstuffs and anything else for returning to school. I didn't even waste a second to tell her yes. So she told me to put on some clothes so we could go to the supermarket together.

We reached the supermarket, and we were just walking around with the cart as I picked what I needed. I was careful in picking because I know my mom; the moment I picked something unnecessary, I would be in hot water. We were done with everything and took what we had picked to the counter; my mom paid for the goods, and they were packaged and given to us.

We were already leaving when I remembered something that was really important—pasta. Pasta was one of my regular meals in school since it was easier to cook. "Mom, I forgot about something," I said with a voice that had a touch of hesitation to it because I knew she was going to be angry that I had remembered something when we had already reached the exit. But to my surprise, she just asked me, "What did you forget?" "Spaghetti," I said, not sure if she was going to agree on us going back for it. "Okay, let's go," my mom said as we turned back; she must have really been in a good mood.

Then the worst part of my story arrived. We had to go up to the second floor to get the spaghetti, and we had to take the escalator. I had never been on an escalator; the truth is that I was really scared of using one. At first, I was hyping myself up in my head that it was not going to be a big deal for me. But as we reached it, I held onto my mom and told her that I had changed my mind and didn't want the pasta anymore; it was like a reflex action. My mom looked at me as she furrowed her eyebrows and asked me, "Why?" And in shame, I answered her, "I can't use this thing," pointing at the escalator.

My mom was shocked at first before she started laughing. "Wait, so you mean to tell me that you have never used an escalator before?" "Yes," I replied. "Well, today you must learn how to use it because one day you will still use it." "I can't," I replied to her. "You will, as long as I am concerned," she giggled as she said every sentence, "except you will walk back to the house, and you will not carry anything I buy back to school." I felt blackmailed and had no choice but to do as she said. "Okay, I will. But if I fall, just know that you are the one that caused it," I said as I squeezed my face. "You will not fall; just make sure you lean forward and don't grip the rail," she said as she stepped on the escalator that carried her up. She even turned while on it and said, "You see, I didn't fall," with a smile that said she was trying her best not to burst out in laughter again.

I took a deep breath, and on the count of five from one, I mounted it. Out of fear, I gripped the handrail and almost fell; I shouted "Jesus" as I quickly let go of the rail and gained balance by leaning forward, just as my mom said. The turbulence of the rush of adrenaline in me that day was something I had never felt in my life before. I quickly got off upon reaching the end; my mom looked at my legs and hands that were now shaking and started laughing again.

We went ahead and bought the pasta, and the thought that I was going to have to mount the escalator again to go down was really tiring. Well, having no choice, I still had to go down, and I did. It wasn't like the first time; I didn't hold the handrail and was faster and earlier in gaining my balance, but I still felt that adrenaline rush.

Upon reaching home, my mom used my ordeal at the mall to mock me constantly, and my mom, dad, and I all laughed at it. But the truth is that even till now, I don't think I will agree to use an escalator again.

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