mute depression

ten from y o u

it's been two months since opal's conversation with her mother. things were different now. she wasn't sure of how different they became, but she could feel the change, like how the violet feels it after the rain but never witness it.

it was 4 pm and it was saturday. it was the hour where girls in opal's age spend their time in the mall where beauty remained--as they thought; a thought that saddened opal. she sat on the couch, in the living room that looked like a polaroid picture; perhaps because the sun drowned in the clouds to find its beauty. however, opal didn't find a place of beauty. she was staring at the black screen of the tv while her mind was trying to understand the strange feeling she had.

in the last two months, opal did what she wanted. it was hard because people never stopped asking her if she was okay. they kept telling her, "you're not opal today." but she was opal and she felt okay. it was okay to sit alone and doodle, it was okay to read instead of talking, it was okay to do what she wanted.

it was comfortable.

she did have moments when she felt that she had to pretend to feel normal because people made her feel strange; however, she remembered that people were the main reason why she felt like this. opal was a swallow in a flock of doves.

opal's mother sat beside her and looked at the black screen. opal thought that her mother was trying to understand a feeling too. when opal turned her head to see her mother she was already looking at her. opal felt disappointed; she was the only one who feels strange.

when she looked into her mother eyes which grew a forest of palm trees, she noticed how her mother's eyes were affected by light as much as her heart was affected by her decisions.

"how do you feel?" her mother asked.

"okay."

"you don't sound okay, though."

"it feels strange to be okay." opal sighed. "it feels strange to fall. i suppose to feel afraid because I don't know where I am going to land or on what."

this time opal spoke freely. the past two months opal's mother was good at dragging her words that hid under her tongue to freedom.

"well, how about you think about now and only now. it's going to make falling feels like flying."