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𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 - A guide to giving up
𝗣𝗨𝗧𝗧𝖨𝗡𝗚 𝖮𝗡 a brave front these days is considered a desirable badge of honor. You have an emotional IQ, you are resilient, you control your emotions, and you don't create negativity around you.
When Rory was a little girl her mother would tell her all about the Spartans. She said that the Spartan's children were taught to never cry and to suffer in silence.
"When everyone else is angry we will remain calm. When everyone else is scared we will be logical. When everyone else is happy we will be observant. When everyone is suffering we will swallow our suffering and move on through the pain."
Why do some people suffer in silence, you may ask?
Because crying never fixed anything and no one wants to see you cry.
that cruel proverb seemed to play on repeat in her head while she settled on the fresh carpet, her back leaning against the lower part of the bed frame with her knees to her chest sobbing, fearing for the first time, what was to come.
During her conversation with Mr. Rudnitski about her disconcerting outburst in class, she begged to go to the nurse, where she spent the entirety of the school day "resting"
He didn't rebuttal as he seemingly noticed his student's odd behavior for the past three days - eventually, giving her the benefit of the doubt.
Rory hadn't shifted from her position on the ground, finding it impossibly overwhelming to possess control over her own body. Just the thought of getting up and moving plunged her into despair.
She managed to reach her hand under the bed and bring out a water bottle, pressing the circular opening to her lips with a quick swig of the lighter fluid that burned her throat. She had a good reason to drink. Actually, a lot of people do. But In her case, it stemmed from the child abuse, the stress, the anxiety, and the depression on a level that frankly sounds incredulous.
It soothed pain she didn't know she had and It made her feel like someone different than herself. And Since Rory didn't like herself, that was great. Booze made her feel 10 feet tall and bulletproof.
She hummed to the faded keys of Roslyn sounding through her white earbuds, appreciating the comforting sensation it left in its trail. The delicate tones seemed to soothe the partial anguish she felt as she became more and more charmed by her gloomy emotions.
The three thumps that she heard through her headphones, didn't deviate anything. In fact, it only made her more malicious knowing that she didn't occupy enough stamina to answer her own damn door, "please go away grandma," She croaked, holding her eyes in such a way that kept the tears inside the lids.
