There's something about depression that makes it not like any other feeling you have ever experienced. It's not the heartache you feel, the breaths you're gasping for, the tears you're holding back, the terrible thoughts that wrack your mind endlessly, the heavy weight that goes through your whole body... You feel those things with so many other emotions. It's the feeling that there is no hope. The feeling that this is it. This is the end. You will never experience happiness again, you'll never feel light and airy, you'll never laugh, never breathe easily, never have dry eyes; you'll never have a positive thought again. That's what makes depression different than anything it. It strips you of all the hope that it will get better.
To get better you need to find your hope. You need to find something to believe in that will give you hope. Whether it's a person or a song or a quote... You need to find something that gives you hope.
What's my hope? What makes me want to get better? What makes me want to recreate myself and be the best version I can be? What do I believe in?
It was November 15th, karaoke day. I knew this was my exercise. This was where I was supposed to break down and tell my story or say I was going to get better. This is where I showed my broken pieces to everyone and left them there in the open.
Cleo was on one side of me, and Avery was on the other side. We were sitting at a big round table waiting for Felix to finish singing his song. The order we were going up: Mason, Wiley, Felix, Bria, Avery, and finally me. So far everyone had gone up without a problem. They were nervous but they conquered the fear and went up on that stage and sung.
Felix was done. Bria nervously rocked in her chair waiting for the DJ to call her name to come up and sing. I gave her a reassuring nod and in return she gave a soft smile.
"Next up is Bria!" boomed the DJ over the microphone.
She stood and made her way up. The music began to play and she sang softly into the microphone. No one but the people at our table were paying attention. It was better that way for Bria.
Everyone had gone and it was my turn. Cleo looked over at me and gave a shrug.
"You going up there or what. O?" she asked.
I pursed my lips and picked nervously at my fingers. I felt no relief from it because of the gloves covering my hands.
"Hmm?" Cleo persisted.
Looking down at my lap I felt the tears burn. I wasn't ready for this. I couldn't sing. I wasn't even talking. I was not ready for this. I wanted to get better, but I was not ready to speak. I was not ready to let everyone see how broken I was. What if they saw I was unfixable?
"If you can't do it... that's okay," Cleo said gently. "One day you'll feel like you can do this and you will march up to that stage, grab the mic and sing your heart out. You will let everyone feel what you've felt and it will change them. You will better the world, Odette. You will better yourself."
Tears sprang to my eyes. That's what I had wanted to hear for such a long time. It was what I needed to hear for a long time. I had waited years and years and finally someone had said it. It gave me hope.
It gave me hope that my one day would be coming soon.
"Last call for Odette to come to the stage," said the DJ.
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Thank you so much everyone who has read this far. This is the end of the book. I'll have a longer author's note explaining the inspiration for this story up in a few days. But for now: Thank you. I hope this story helped you in someway or that you enjoyed it or it raised your awareness of depression and suicide. This isn't just to raise awareness for people who have it or have gone through it... this is to raise awareness for the ones who have been the onlooker, the ones left behind, the ones who are hurting with the depressed and suicidal.
I hope you like the ending. It's up for interpretation for all of you. I'm not going to confirm if she went up to the stage or if she didn't. It's up to you to decide.
There will be no epilogue. This is the end of the story. There will also be no sequel. You can figure out your own endings for Odette and the rest :)
Thank you again everyone. This story means a lot to me and you reading this means a lot. It gives me hope.
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Falling Colors
Teen Fiction"The unfixable; the shattered; the torn; the broken. They all come here. It's my job to remake them, because once its broken there is no going back to the way it was. It must be remade." Six individuals. Six unique stories. Five exercises. One...
