Saving Isabella

Untitled Part 39

Hi, its been a while since I last updated. I-ve just got back from scouts camp and I'm going back on vacation soon. Im set on completing this book before the end of August, right now I'm struggling with mental health and schoolwork (the joys of being a homeschooler without proper breaks). Here is a piece of writing I wanted to submit for a competition as a gift while I comb through my personal affairs and get to writing the last chapter/chapters.

I've always been told, "You don't need many friends, just a few real ones." But what happens when you don't even have those? In life's darkest moments—when you feel like giving up, when it seems there's nothing left to fight for—sometimes all we truly need is a simple act of kindness: a hug, a gentle embrace, a reminder that we are loved.

Some people find comfort in God, others in Allah. For me, it's the Red Dragon. The Red Dragon is a guardian of pain and trauma, a silent keeper of burdens too heavy to carry alone. He stores them away, watching over you until the day you're strong enough to face them. Until that time comes, he stands by your side—protecting, guiding, and reminding you that you're never truly alone.

(There are two stories that are connected)

FIRST STORY

I'm so tired of being tired yet an unknown force compels me to open my eyes. When I finally do, I close them again and quickly reopen them, trying to figure out my surroundings. I have the sensation of being in a big body of water, just floating. My clothes don't feel wet, neither does the water. Then again humans can feel wetness– just the changes in temperature and texture. I'm not cold or hot, I'm not scared, I'm not sad nor happy. Angry? Maybe, but mostly numb. Sometimes I like this numb feeling of my brain being static. Mostly because I can't trust my brain to be in control of me anymore, since it always leads to a neverending down spiral of dark thoughts and conjured up insults.

It's just so tiring sometimes, you know? Everyday: having to get up, to be presentable, to put a mask on for everyone, since you can trust no one. Sometimes I ask myself, why? Why do I have to get up everyday? Why do I have to pretend? Usually I still do, get up I mean, but today I can't, even if I wanted to. Honestly I would prefer to stay here. Floating in the darkness. I close my eyes again, allowing my body to melt into the water.

I have no idea how long I have laid here, but when I reopen my eyes I feel different, more...determined. I sit up in the water and get up, my legs are wobbly but they don't stop me. After a few steps I realise my clothes, shoes and socks are bone dry. That's weird, but I think we are past weird at this point.

I run forward, the water slowing me down, desperately trying to find an exit to this hole of desperation. I reach a point where I'm unable to pass, I would best describe it like a video game in which there is a border of the map you can't cross no matter how much you try. It isn't a wall, since when I ran against it I didn't get hurt. Inhaling a deep breath I brace myself, step back, and finally sprint forward. I leap into the darkness with all the strength I can muster. Somehow I manage to attach my body to the "wall". I reach my hand upwards, desperately trying to hold onto something. My fingers discover a tiny crevice, just wide enough to wedge in my middle and index fingers, a glimmer of hope lights up inside me. Using my fingers as leverage I hoist my leg higher while I desperately search another hole with my left hand. After a minute of heavy breathing and my hand scraping across the wall trying to find even the smallest crevice to cling to, I find one. I feel the sweat on my forehead dripping down my nose, I'm probably not even a meter of the ground. Frustration builds up in my stomach as I desperately cast my gaze upwards thirstily trying to have a glimpse of sunlight, but I'm too far down. I hoist my other leg up carefully, dragging it across the wall. Once I feel secure enough in my new position I reach with my right hand over my head, yet again searching for a hole.