The Mute Reporter

17- Present Day

Jensen Blackwell

Sam drove me home later that day, and I immediately got into a slump.

Well, slump to put it lightly.

It's been a day since my emergency surgery and I was taken home. Sam had to leave almost immediately to see what Carter was doing and to make sure he was okay.

Sam also asked if I had anyone to help me out for the next week or so while I recover, but I told him that I was fine and I could do it on my own or with Mateo.

It was only after Sam walked out the door though that Mateo told me he was out of town for a family related event, and to quickly shoot him in the head next time I see him.

So here I was, stuck in bed. The only chance I made effort to get up was to go to the restroom. And that hurt really bad, so I didn't bother to help myself try to eat.

I wasn't responding to any texts either. I just wanted to be alone and pity myself in all honesty.

My career was pretty much in the ground, a lot of feelings with Sam are being reopened, and I have a son.

Not like Carter was a bad thing. He was amazing actually, just very, very surprising. And I made it that way.

I see my phone screen light up, and I see Sam's name show up.

I open the text, but close it with no intention of responding.

Sam: hello? Are you doing okay?

As soon as I shut my phone off, my phone lights up with a call from him.

Sam hardly ever calls. Essentially because it's useless for him too. He also only calls when he is really really concerned, and to get one's attention.

He's only ever called me twice before in the time I've known him. Once on a bad night for him, and another on the last night we both saw each other.

And now, this marks it the third time.

I don't pick up though, and I turn my phone facedown so I don't have to see anything else.

The tv plays on a low volume, and instead of turning it up, I turn the volume all the way down so I can't hear anything.

The actors speak, but there aren't any words to hear. My subtitles weren't on anyways.

I always did this whenever I watched tv in a mood.

At least I've done it for about eleven to twelve years, when everything was shit because of my dad. He caused so much pain for everyone around him and didn't care at all.

It was intended to be more of a punishment then anything. To take away a voice that you could control.

My chest constricts, and suddenly my face is wet.

I don't cry often, but when I do, it's like a dam in me exploded. Once it started it wouldn't stop for a long time.

So I just sat and watched a silent tv for hours, crying softly, other times loudly. Point is, it never stopped.

Depression isn't fun. Its ugly and lonely. Even when you're with someone, you still feel lonely, even if you aren't alone. It's tiring and exhausting, even if you are perfectly rested up. It makes you do crazy, insane things just so you can feel something again. It's like you're just experiencing this never ending fall in a dark, black hole, and no matter how loud or soft you scream, no one can and will hear you.

Depression shouldn't be as romanticized as it is. It's a disease. It's a sickness, not a fucking trend to jump in on to get attention.

Rusty came up at least once or twice; and let me let him as he napped on and off before disappearing outside into the night.