Just Enough

Assassination ?

I bolted out the door, happy to breathe fresh air again. "Whoo!" I strolled down my street looking at the familiar buildings, reminiscing about the times I would stroll down this very street to get an ice cream from the shops with my mother or just because I wanted to go out with my father; such days are long gone, and now I try to feel that childlike joy I once embodied just to feel happy again, but sometimes it feels impossible.

The pressure of being a teenager overwhelms you, and in my house, being 14 in the 12th grade increases their expectations and raises their standard of you; they watch your every move like a predator watching their prey waiting for you to make a mistake, so they could call you out and make them feel better about themselves, leaving you in the dark with no one to save you, and that is where I currently am. My mother has always told me about my neighbour, right from when we moved here. I was 5 at the time, and you would think a 5-year-old is free from the pains of a teenager, but my mum made it painfully clear that she wanted me to advance towards the sciences, but instead I advanced towards art. She always compared me with the neighbour's daughter in terms of how she wanted to become a doctor and how she always got straight A's, although we were the same age in the same class. The pressure started long ago. I had a self-diagnosis of depression at 6 years old and later on a doctor's diagnosis at 11, but I could never tell my mother because she would be disappointed in how her, oh, so 'golden, wonderful'—that is, secretly, her least favourite—child was tainted by the corruption of the world, leaving me behind like everyone else. My father a different case study, he works 2 weeks in and 2 weeks out, there is not that much to say about him but, one thing I can tell you is that he feels disappointed in me; not only has he said it but the disapproving looks I always feel at the back of my head says it all, that little voice in my head gnawing at me of how much of a failure I am and how much I let them down leading my family to shame, you try to fight it the first few times but it does not go away instead it comes back stronger, like a punishment for fighting it and most of the time it feels impossible just to get out of bed without feeling like a failure.

I put on my headphones and play some music to block the thoughts out. The first song that comes up is Silent Cry by Stray Kids. The song is calm and rather relaxing for me. The walk to the pharmacy was rather short—shorter than usual. I casually entered the store, as it was practically a habit at this point. "Good evening," I said, greeting the pharmacist at the register. I have not seen him before, so he must be new here. "Evening," he replied,what can I get for you?" He tells me to adjust my glasses and politely ask for the medication I came for. "Aren't you a little too young to be taking these?" he asks. "Are you not a little too young to be working?" I reply draconically. "Actually, I'm not." "Oh, really?" I retorted snarkily with my British accent. I grabbed my medication on the counter, saying a quick thank you—I'm sarcastic, not impolite or rude—before dashing out to heaven knows where. I find myself on Jessica's street, deciding there is no harm in visiting before I return home. I knock on the door at least three times before stepping back and waiting for the door to open. After a minute or two, the door opens, and I'm greeted by fresh flowers and a dog?. I cautiously stepped inside, greeting Jessica's mother, before going up to Jessi's room. Walking up the stairs felt like it was an eternity; immediately I opened her room door, I made a beeline straight towards her bed and crashed on it, feeling ecstatic that I was not walking anymore, and then I heard a bark and a surprisingly loud tap on the floor, making me wonder when Jessi had gained so much weight. I looked, wanting to question her, but then I saw a strange sight: a bunny and a puppy staring right back at me, and suddenly the door opened. I looked up, seeing Jessi breaking my trance with the furry creatures, but they were still leaving me puzzled at their appearance. I look to her for an explanation, and she quickly gets the sign, "Ohhh, the bunny and the dog, yeah?" I slowly nod my head. "My parents got them for me for getting an A- in that geography class I've been telling you about," she said with a smile. "Oh yeah."

After a while, I bid my goodbyes to Jessi and her family. I turned on my phone as it had died while at Jessica's place, but I charged it. As it came on, a bunch of notifications flooded my phone, making me for a second believe I was wanted, only to look at the time and it was "8:15pm," I said, my voice not above a whisper in the lonely, dark streets of Cornwallis. (A/N: I just came up with the name on the spot.) "I'm going to get myself killed at this rate," I said with a sigh. I suddenly felt a presence following me; it had been there for a while, and now I just need to pinpoint where it's coming from. I stopped moving and just stared at my feet. breathing, I can hear it; whoever it is is trying to be quiet, and it actually is working, but thanks to my trauma, I pick it up easily. "Thank you, mom and dad, or all those angry nights" I whispered with a sarcastic smile on my face. "Come out; you aren't really doing a good job at hiding. Well, you are, but I know you're there" and that's when I felt it...

Hihi Cuddlebugs, I'm so sorry I haven't been consistent lately, but I'll try promise :).