Submerge

B U R D E N

W E D N E S D A Y

"How was school so far?" Jordan's voice drifted across the dinner table, but I couldn't be bothered to answer him with more than a shrug. I kept my eyes fixed on the plate in front of me, a silent protest.

Mom, on the other hand, had a low tolerance for my non-verbal defiance. "Mason," she said, her tone carrying a warning, her eyes unyielding.

"Fine," I grumbled, rolling my eyes in her direction. "Have you made any new friends?" Jordan probed once more.

I was on the verge of giving him the same nonchalant response when I felt my mom's penetrating gaze. Reluctantly, I mumbled, "No."

"Can I be excused?" I asked, wanting to avoid any further interrogation. "You haven't eaten anything; your plate is still full," Mom pointed out.

"I had a big lunch. Now, can I go?" She sighed and gave a reluctant nod, granting me my escape.

As I climbed halfway up the stairs, I heard Mom's voice calling me back. "Don't forget you have your psychiatrist appointment tomorrow after school!"

I had been seeing a therapist for the past nine months, but I couldn't honestly say it was doing either of us any good. I'd walk into those sessions and remain silent throughout, and when he tried to prod me to talk, I'd drift into daydreams. It felt like a colossal waste of money.

Alone in my room, as usual, the solitude weighed on me, stirring an uneasy feeling. I threw open the window and reached for a pack of cigarettes.

My gaze wandered out the window, but the only view I could discern was from my neighbor's window. My room faced the side of the house, providing no sweeping vistas. So, I turned my eyes to the sky instead.

Back in my old life, I didn't have many close friends, but I had one, and she meant the world to me. Now, she was gone, and the prospect of making new friends filled me with dread.

I knew people had tried to befriend me in the past, mainly because I was a popular swimmer and my dad was wealthy. It had been easy for them to make the effort. But since I'd stopped swimming, I had become nearly invisible. Who would want to be friends with a cantankerous, irritable asshole like me? I didn't want anyone to know a thing about my past.

I'd told my mom the pills weren't working, that they were just making me moodier, and the side effects were terrible. Maybe I should stop taking them?

It made no sense to me to keep taking those pills when drinking had proven more effective. At least it kept the urge to jump out of a window at bay. These days, life passed by in a hazy blur, and nothing seemed to matter anymore.

My eyes, sunken and dull, stared back at me from the bathroom mirror as I prepared to take a shower. I struggled to recognize the person reflected there. I wondered if others who looked at me saw the misery etched into my skin.

I spent an inordinate amount of time in the shower, and when I finally emerged, my hands were wrinkled. I wrapped a towel around my waist, moved to my wardrobe, selected a white t-shirt and sweatpants, and closed the door.

The clock on my nightstand read 11:17 PM. As I leaned back against my bed, a sudden stinging in my eyes caught me off guard. A single tear trailed down my cheek, and the room began to spin. Slowly, I allowed my body to slump to the carpeted floor. My head throbbed, and it felt like I was choking on my own breath. Desperately, I reached for my phone and dialed a number.

After several rings, Nathan's voice finally answered, "Hello?" I burst into tears, unable to hold back the choking sobs any longer.

"It- it hurts," I tried to say through the sobs. "Everything hurts." Nathan's voice seemed to fade away, and all I could hear were my own pitiful cries. "Mas, Mas! Please, listen to me!" I faintly heard him. "I'll be there soon. Don't do anything stupid, please." His words only made me cry even harder.

After a good ten minutes of sobbing, I was out of tears. I lay on the ground, numbly staring at the ceiling.

Even as I heard my room's door opening, I remained still, my gaze locked on the ceiling. Gentle hands nudged my chest, and a voice implored, "Hey, Mas, look at me."

But I couldn't bring myself to look, not when I already knew what was coming. Eventually, a pair of pitying eyes met mine, and I hated it.

As Nathan pulled me up onto the bed and began stroking my hair, a few more tears escaped my eyes. I found my voice again, and in a broken whisper, I said, "I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"The nightmares," I replied, furrowing my brows as I avoided his gaze, staring at the wall in front of me.

"Mason, I want to help you, so please, talk to me." My vision blurred from fresh tears, and I felt like a complete mess. "Two months," I finally confessed, my voice barely audible. "Mas, why didn't you say anything?" Nathan's eyes held a deep sympathy. "I'm already a burden. I didn't wan-"

"You never are," he cut me off, his voice firm. "Don't you ever think like that."

"Mas, I love you to the moon and back," he whispered.

"I love you too," I managed to say as sleep began to overtake me.

make sure to vote!