The Spring of Love & Heartbreak

Leave Me Alone

It's the Monday after we buried Billy.

They held a small memorial for Hopper last night at the town hall; but I couldn't find it in me to get out of bed. The warm covers keeping me held down in place, letting me know that I'm still here and alive. When I shouldn't be. Is this what depression feels like? I've felt like this before- but not this bad. My mind floats back to that night at school. Henry screaming at me as the current takes me away- the full moon above me. The frigid water making everything numb and taking the pain away but leaving a hollowness behind. I'm a shell of what I use to be. I thought life was bad then, all the beatings and the torture but this is worse. My wound is healing so slowly when it should've been fully healed by now.

The days start passing by me, slowly but quickly at the same time. Steve comes and checks on me every morning before he leaves for work, and every night when he gets back from work. He talks to me- but I don't really talk back. I can't. I'll just break down crying, and I can't- won't put more stress on him. It's not fair to him. He should enjoying his summer.

Mom brings me every meal and leaves it on my night stand or my desk. She checks my wound to make sure it's not festering since I can't remember when I showered last. She'll shake her head, kiss me on my forehead and leave me alone. I'll pick at the food she brings up. A few bites seems to fill me up, the depression keeps me hungry for something else.

The nights are the worst.

Some nights I wake up to Mom or Steve shaking me awake. "You were screaming again." One of them would say, the tiredness heavy on their eyes. Some nights mom would stay in my room and fall asleep on my bed or next to my bed. Some nights it would be Steve. And some nights I would be left alone to my own devices.

Nights are the worst.

I cry every night. Thinking of how I could've done things differently. Beating myself mentally. My internal dialogue has gone from my number one fan to the villain that whispers awful things. Awful things to do to myself. Sometime she's quiet but at night she screams at me when the world is quiet.

I beg for my mind to let me sleep and sometimes she grants me that wish. But it's not what I want. I beg to dream of Billy and to see him, talk to him, touch him and make sure he's okay- but it's nothing but darkness. I scream at the darkness begging for Billy to come through, or even Henry to hear my pleas. But no one comes. No one comes to my rescue. When I do sleep, I'm awake in the void. Sitting; laying in the cold water- floating to nowhere.

My mind has become a cruel place to live in. To be left alone with.

On Thursday, a doctor comes over and checks out my wound. He warns me that he can pull the stitches out and that it'll hurt. He offers numbing medication but I turn it down. Maybe the pain will help me wake up; get me out of the dull fog. I feel the pulling, but no pain from it. I could've taken the stitches out myself but that would've caused a scene with mom. She would've yelled that I was hurting myself so the doctor did it. He cleared me, saying I can do normal activities now.

But I just stay in my bed, watching the sun go down.

Dad comes up that night, checking on me for him only to start yelling at me. He thinks yelling at me will get me back to normal, back to the normal obedient daughter but he doesn't know that my mind is louder than him. The voices in my head scream louder and worse things then he can possibly say. Steve and mom come running up the stairs when Dad starts yelling at me, throwing the door open to see just in time for Dad about to back hand me. I don't even flinch. Maybe I'll feel this? Steve stops him and throws him against the wall, while mom cradles me in her arms. Rocking me back and forth while she cries. Steve starts yelling and Mom joins Steve's side. Dad yelling at them. Everyone is yelling.