There is Everything for You Here

Chapter 1

Hi everyone, this is my first book ever so any advice and feedback is greatly appreciated! I've always been a fan of writing, but have always been so shy to share my work - thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy!

** Fair warning, this book starts off a little dry! But gets better ;))

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"Stella!" Sutton snapped. "Are you even listening to me?" My sister watched me with hard eyes, waving a forkful of mashed potatoes around. She narrowed her thin blonde eyebrows, expecting me to respond to whatever she had just said.

"Oh, sorry," I said dumbly, and did my best impression of listening as she rambled on about her latest partying adventures. But to be honest, who cared? Her stories were all the same – she drank too much and threw up, she partied with a bunch of hot people, she made out with someone random.

Sometimes, I think I would like to be like that. Not all the time of course, but sometimes. It would just be nice to be more social.

I could spend my time imagining what this new version of myself would look like. Would I dye my hair, like Sutton? Start wearing fake tan all year round? Last week she begged me to help her put it on her back. I had the typical skin for a redhead, pale with freckles spotted all over; I liked fake tanning too, pretending I was somewhere warm and sunny and in a much better place, but I think she was more invested in her perfect tan. Whatever floated her boat, I guessed. I tried to spot the tan on her hands, looking for any staining, any imperfections – I stopped listening to her long ago. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marco give a suspicious look in my direction. I lifted my head back up and started nodding more enthusiastically to what Sutton was saying.

"Right, that sounds crazy," I said. She gave me an excited look, gesturing her open palm to me.

"Thank you, that's exactly what I was saying to him too! I can't see why he doesn't realise he's being a complete—" My thoughts trailed off again, her words becoming a low buzzing sound in my ears.

It was Marco who noticed first. He said it was obvious, a brother's instinct, but I think it was because his depression had hit him during his teen years not too long ago – he could easily recognize the signs. He turned out ok though – he was even a doctor now, working at a nearby hospital. I didn't think I could be a doctor.

He approached me after Sunday's family dinner one night and asked me what was going on. I denied it, but he was just annoying enough to be persistent about it. He insisted I start going to a therapist and I half-heartedly agreed. I didn't want him to tell Mom and Dad – well, mostly Mom. She had too much on her plate already – always working, wanting to provide the best for our family.

She did a good job too. With three kids in the family, we always had great adventures. But sometimes, I didn't feel like there was enough room for me. Literally. It was why I chose to dorm at my university only half an hour away.

I was nine when Marco tried to kill himself. He was seventeen at the time. I remember how much my parents cried. I remember how much Marco cried too. I remember the hospital visits and the endless therapy sessions I saw my Mom drive him to every week. I think the stress of his illness really took a toll on my parents. They were doomed for a divorce anyways, but my dad moved out just a few months after. Time seemed to pass slower then, and more painful. It was like being slowly squeezed to death by a snake. I read a story about a guy that happened to once. I wondered if he was a good person.

I was afraid of repeating everything again. Afraid of the time that Marco had. Maybe he was the person in the snake in this scenario. Most of all, I was afraid to put my parents through that again. I was fine, anyways. I had parents who loved me so much, siblings who cared for me, I was attending a good university, and I wasn't about to let anything get in the way of that.