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*Elena*

"Ouch, Olivia. That hurts!" I exclaim as she pins the scarlet bow in my hair. I attempt to swat her hands away only to be met with a few playful slaps in retaliation.

She chuckles. "Stop being so dramatic, El. We go through this every time we get ready for practice or a game."

I glance up at Olivia and shoot her a glare, but it quickly dissolves into a smile as I see her grinning back at me.

We have both grown and changed over the years, but Olivia's smile, which makes it impossible to stay mad at her for anything, never has.

At the age of 12, we both managed to secure a spot at one of the most competitive cheer camps in the country.

I smile, reminiscing about how much we despised each other at first. As the two best athletes in the program, we were destined to be rivals, hungry for praise and recognition.

Somewhere along the way we smarted up and realized that as enemies, neither of us would grow into the athletes we could be. But as a team? We thrived.

And now, here we are, beginning our senior year together at Ohio State University. Our bond over the last three years has only gotten stronger, Olivia quickly becoming the sister I've always dreamed of having.

As a child, I used to constantly pester my parents for a sibling, yearning for that special connection I saw my peers have. They would often tell me that I brought enough light into their lives to only have one.

Most people think being an only child has an array of benefits to it: undivided attention from parents, constant praise and admiration, nobody to be compared to, and all that sort of stuff.

Despite that, I spent a great deal of my life not thinking much of myself. Maybe it's simply because I'm a perfectionist, but my mind always somehow convinces me that nothing I do is good enough.

My thoughts wander to the faded scars on my left forearm, remnants of a much darker time in my life. Only Olivia knows about them; not even my parents are aware.

During a particularly difficult period in my life around 16, the pressures of school and cheerleading became overwhelming, and I, unfortunately, chose one of the most destructive outlets.

My boyfriend of 2 years, Lucas, hasn't ever noticed either. The scars are faint now, but they serve as a reminder of how far I've come.

Throughout my life, Olivia has been my biggest supporter. She has dragged me out of my lowest of lows, times when I thought maybe there wasn't a point in trying anymore.

My darkening thoughts remind me to take my medication and I lean over to my desk and dry swallow one of my pills.

Even though I've been on anti-depressants since I was 13, even to this day, I can't help the slight feeling of guilt that courses through me as I swallow.

I grew up in a loving household and in a decent neighborhood with plenty of friends. I was never really bullied or put down at all in my life. I don't have any actual reason in my life to be depressed.

So why am I still unhappy?

It's like I'm stuck in a constant loop, fighting against my own mind, even when everything around me seems to be going well.

My doctors and therapists in the past have reminded me that it's simply a chemical imbalance that I can't control, but I still feel can't help feeling guilty nonetheless.

It's almost as if I feel my problems aren't deserving enough of needing medication.

Feeling another painful tung in my hair, I glance into my mirror to see that Olivia has started to braid a few strands of it.