I was washing the dishes. My hands were rubbing into the plates a bit too hard, but I barely noticed that as the word depression kept tumbling around in my mimd. No matter how hard I tried not to think about the word, it somehow fought its way to the front of my mind.
The truth was, I had this deep, dark feeling that I was just being stubborn. I was just swiping away the thought of depression because of the negative stigma I had attached to it, even though I shouldn't be. I should be taking it in, accepting it, because every sign pointed to me. As much as I tried to think otherwise, having depression made sense.
I had spent most of my life wishing for death. At one point I had even prayed for it because I wanted it that badly. I wanted out. Out from my overwhelming misery and cruel life. All this time I just thought it was me being realistic, but with Jai bringing up depression, I had a sinking feeling it was more. Something that needed fixing.
I put the plate I'd been washing away, slamming it as hard as I dared into the drying rack. My hands were trembling as I reached for the next plate, knowing this couldn't be true. I couldn't be depressed. I didn't have an illness.
What was I so scared of, I wondered as I scrubbed the plate. The water hitting my hand was warm and suddenly I ached for Jai's cold hand. I wanted him here with me and even if I had been mad at him for what he said, he was still all I ever wanted and needed.
But before we would speak, Jai wanted me to stop being in denial. I wanted him too, knowing if I was supposedly depressed, so was he. We were both miserable and fucked up, and if that meant depression, then we both had it.
We were both an illness, I thought miserably. We were those characters on televisions, moping about everything. Harming themselves and adding more pain into their lives, when they had enough. I hated the idea of that.
Grumbling to myself, I put the plate away. I then grabbed a paper towel and began to dry each plate I washed. Stacking them into a pile, I lifted them up as I went to put them away. My hands were still trembling at my thoughts, but I was glad to know I could soon go back to my room.
When I neared the cupboard, my dad suddenly roared, "Scarlett!"
Surprised by the sudden outburst, I jumped. My hands let go of the plates and they crashed down in front of my feet, shattering into a million pieces. I jumped at that too and my eyes then widened as I looked down and saw the mess I created. Oh no.
Stomps came my way and I spun around to see my dad charging at me. His eyes were hard and wild, rage consuming them. It had been a while since I'd seen him like this, so I stepped back in fear. My feet landed on a shard of glass and I winced as it stabbed me. Blood trickled down the sole of my foot, but I didn't notice it as my dad grabbed my hair.
"Stupid fucking child!" he roared. "Look what you've done!"
Yanking my hair, he threw me onto the ground. Luckily I landed away from the glass, but my scalp stung at the force. My heart was also pounding as I remembered the last time he abused me physically. I couldn't believe this was happening again.
"You can't do anything right!" he shouted, kicking me in the stomach. "Piece of shit!"
I gasped as the wind was knocked out of me. My eyes went wide and tears pooled into them as the pain was searing. This was embarrassing and I wished he stuck to yelling at me. It didn't make me feel helpless like this.
My dad kicked me again in the stomach, and I gagged, feeling nausea hit me. As I wrapped my arms around my stomach protectively, he then kicked me in face. Blinding pain flooded into me and I groaned. It was all too much.
"Dad, stop," I begged. "Please."
I hated begging. Never wanted to beg my dad, but I had to. This was all too much.
"Shut up!" he snapped, kicking my leg as I curled up on the ground.
"Please!" I begged, gasping for breath. "Please stop!"
He bent forward and grabbed my hair, yanking me up. I yelped as he dragged me into sitting position, so that I was facing him. His face expressed a hatred so pure and evil that I shivered. This could be the end.
"I will never stop," he hissed, bringing his face close to mine. "I will never stop hurting you, okay?"
I whimpered and closed my eyes, knowing I couldn't cry. Not again. Not when he would see me and enjoy it.
"You hear that?" he growled. "As long as you're alive I'll make you suffer for your pitiful existence."
I didn't reply to that as I shuddered, knowing he was being honest. The very thought of that made a pit of fear bloom in my stomach and I was shaking, knowing this was my life. A life filled with pain, fear, and everything bad in this world. Once again, I wished my life was a lie.
Suddenly, my dad let go of my hair. I dropped to the ground and lay there, even as he stomped away. Shocked he let me be, I stayed where I was, waiting to see if this was some sick joke.
After five minutes of lying on the ground in pain, I finally pulled myself up. Standing up, I felt my stomach ache with a pain so incredible I hunched forward to lessen it. I then dragged myself upstairs and to my room.
Once in my room, I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath in. That hurt a lot, but the physical pain wasn't the first thing on my mind right now. As I limped to my bed, my dad's words were all I could think about.
Sitting at the ledge of my bed, I stared out my window. My lip trembled as I thought my dad's words. He would always hurt me. For as long as I was alive, he would always be hurting me. The sudden thought of that was unbearable and with my whole body in so much pain, my eyes teared up. I couldn't do this anymore.
I didn't want to do this anymore, I thought as I stared out the window. My body was trembling and my dark thoughts began to consume my mind. With my eyes on my window, I thought about going to it. Jumping from it and landing on hard ground, creating a certain death for me. That sounded perfect. Right now, it was a dream come true.
Numbly, I stood up. I was still shaking and I knew this was the only was to stop my suffering. This was the only way to make sure my dad would never hurt me again. I stepped forward, knowing this was it.
But suddenly, a figure appeared in front of my already opened window. He stepped inside and I registered it was Jai through my blurred vision. Jai frowned as he saw me and with that, I broke down as I realized what I was about to do.
YOU ARE READING
Tell Me A Lie
Novela JuvenilScarlett Rose doesn't know what to make out of life. All she knows for now is that she wants out. Out from her abusive parents. Out from the stress of being a teenager. She won't admit that she's depressed, and insists that she's just being realisti...