Riley
Depression. What does that even mean? It means never coming out of your room. It means barely coming out to eat. It means sadness and darkness. To the dictionary, no, but to me, definitely.
To the dictionary, depression is a condition of general emotional dejection and withdrawal, or sadness greater and more prolonged than that warranted by any objective reason. Though this is true, I have my own simpler, more relatable version of the definition.
Yes, I, Riley McKee, have had depression. It was sad, dark, lonely depression. It was also the most comfortable situation I've been in, believe it or not. Some people say it's terrible and uncomfortable. It was, but it was uncomfortably comfortable. After all, it got me away from my stepmother and her daughter. It wasn't because of them that I got depression though. It was my father. The person I cared about most. The person who cared about me most.
One Year Ago
I went into the kitchen after getting dressed. My dad was making me go to see my stepsister's new "amazing" boyfriend she's dating this week. He should know by now that I couldn't care less about her. She doesn't care about me, so why not?
"I still don't think this is fair, Dad." I said it with an annoyance in my tone that I could tell my father hated. "I don't care what you think is fair or not. I want you there. You're going, and that's all I want to hear of it." The sternness in his voice reminded me that he was serious. I grabbed my bag and stormed out the door to wait in the car.
My mom died of cancer when I was 10. (Seventeen now) Then, two years ago, he married my stepmother, Celine. She self-centered. She didn't care about anyone besides herself. Though, she did leave a small space in her heart for her daughter, Katie. They were two of a kind though.
10 minutes into the drive into town, and we hadn't said a word. We were coming up to a huge curve, called Curve 31, due to it being the 31st curve on this road. It was complete silence. An eerie silence, so, naturally, I broke it.
"You know, I don't know why you go through all this trouble for them. They wouldn't for us. It's pretty obvious that Celine wouldn't have married you without your money. She's practically told me. They couldn't care less about me. They don't even care enough to want to give me the scraps off their plates. As if I weren't worthy enough. I don't see why you still try to get me to like her." I ranted. He turned to look at me. He was opening his mouth to speak right when we both saw the big, silver truck come around the corner. Practically out of nowhere.
He tried to swerve. We were too late. Glass flew everywhere. I was blinded by the backs of my eyelids and my hands as they covered my face from flying parts. After half a minute's silence, I removed my hands, and looked over at my dad. I leaped over to him. "Dad! Dad, are you okay?" He wasn't responding. "What do I do?!" I said even though I was already reaching for my phone to dial 911. I waited for them to answer. I explained what happened quickly through my tears.
"-and we're at Curve 31!" I added between sobs, remembering they needed a location. "I'm sorry Ma'am, could you repeat that?" "I said we're at Curve 31!" I yelled into the phone, still crying.
"Dad, stay with me. You'll be okay. They're coming to help. Breathe. It's okay." I said, my voice shaking. I could here the sirens in the distance. But, once again, they were too late. My dad's grip on my hand loosened. His pulse slowed. His beating heart dying. His eyes slightly rolled back as his eyelids closed slowly. I released the wound I was pressing on, leaving my hands sticky with his blood. "No Dad! Come back. I need you. Don't leave me. I need you here with me!" I buried my face into his shoulder and sobbed harder.
He's not gone. Even though I knew the truth, I repeated this in my head over and over, trying to make me believe it. I was lying to myself though.
Now, I believe it's my fault. If I hadn't said those horrible things, or if I hadn't have said anything at all... it was my fault. Leaving me with a stepmother and stepsister. All my fault.
This is no Cinderella story. Where the girl gets her Prince Charming. Where the girl gets fancy clothes and money. Or is it?
Cinderella is a lucky girl. Me? No where near it.
--
A/N
This is new...
I picture Riley as Lily Collins.☺️
This is an Ashton fanfic so he'll be entering soon. 💚
Lots of Love,
thxtsoluke.
