The darkness rests inside my chest.
I want help but my parents think the darkness is from staying in my room and going on the Internet, when these are the only things allowing me to hold on to my sanity.
So I hide the darkness behind a fake smile. This isn't like my other illnesses, this one is a known killer.
How is it my friends of up to ten years don't notice the darkness? Even the two who suffer with their own. Can't they see the darkness growing behind my facade?
I wish my parents understood so I could go to them for help. I don't even dare go to a councilor or doctor for fear they'll tell my parents. The only person who knows is one of my internet friends.
The darkness has lessened over the last months but sometimes still it grips me in its bitter hold. Even now it tries to creep back into trying to control me.
But I fight it.
I may fight alone because my parents don't understand, but that makes my fight no less meaningless.
YOU ARE READING
Me To You
Short StorySometimes a story just has to be told, even if it's not very long. This is a book for my short stories (which one day may be turned into a full length novel) I hope you enjoy the things my brain spew through the keyboard! ~Copyright 2015~
