The End, So Far

She's Like Heroine

After our late night talk I got to know a lot more about Lenore.

I think she had an easier time texting than speaking in person.

I got more out of her than I ever did, each time I asked her something I half expected her to suddenly quit answering me but she didn't.

I found out she's been dealing with depression since she was eleven. I didn't even think it could hit someone that young but I guess it didn't discriminate. Her parents hauled her to multiple therapists and doctors over the years but nothing worked.

She got tired of fighting last year and gave up.

She would have succeeded if her mom hadn't gotten sick at work. She came home early and found her in the bathroom.

That was what took her ability to play the piano. She damaged the nerves in her arm and couldn't move her fingers for long without pain.

She told me she never really loved playing, her parents made her take lessons as a kid and she got good at it.

She played to make them happy but it didn't work for her.

There didn't seem to be anything that she really enjoyed.

She did things simply because she had to or was told to by her parents. She doodled and fidgeted with her bracelets to keep from biting her fingernails, drawing wasn't a hobby.

She didn't have any hobbies. I asked her if she liked to read or watch movies. She said most of the time she doesn't want to do anything, everything feels like a chore.

I had read that depression made you lose interest in everything but I know there has to be something that would make her happy and I'm determined to find out what It is.

The next morning at school I'm running on fumes. I didn't sleep much after we stopped texting, I couldn't stop thinking about her.

I drug myself to class and tried my best to pay attention, I just wanted to go back to bed but the dark little fairy sitting beside me kept me going.

I made it through the first class ok but as I got to biology I was even more tired and starting to feel on edge.

Of course the teacher happened to notice me zoning out and nodding off before Danny nudged me.

She came over and stood at the table leaning down in front of me.

"Did you need to go see the nurse Mr. Larson, are you not feeling well?" she said in a voice that I think she meant to be a whisper but was hardly quiet.

She knew I hated when she called me that, I had told her Mr. Larson was my father on numerous occasions but she chose to ignore me.