The eerie silence of the house rang in my ears. The ceiling creaked from the wind. I trudged up the staircase, looking down into the living room below. I shrugged my bag higher onto my shoulder, sighed, and continued up the steps. I left my bag on my window seat, grabbed my travel cup of hot chocolate, (don't like coffee,) and opened my window. When stories tell you how they got out of the window and onto the roof, they would say they ninja-rolled.
Yeah, great plan, except the roof is slanted and you would plunge two stories down onto the frozen earth. So I placed my cup on the window sill and dragged myself out. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head, and rolled the sleeves over my hands, protecting any sight of my wrists. I grabbed my cup and shut the window. I leaned against the siding behind me. I grasped the cup and drank, but the drink could never thaw the cold inside of me.
---
My pencil scratched across the paper, filling in answers. I bit my lip, twirling my pencil across my fingers. I heard a door slam from the mudroom below me, and my teeth sank into my lip, the salty taste of blood filling my mouth. I shut my door, hoping to avoid my mom. I continued on with my homework for about a minute, until I reached for my water, only to find it empty. I glanced at the door, and at my cup, and sighed. I got up and slowly walked towards the door. I rest my fingertips on the door handle, questioning myself. Was it really worth it? I was growing more and more uncomfortable with the dry taste of my mouth as I waited. I knew I would have to exit my room eventually, so I opened the door and proceeded to the kitchen. I pressed the cup to the water dispenser, and suddenly the door in the mudroom opened.
"Christine, we've been yelling for you to come help bring the groceries in for ten minutes!" My mom yelled.
"I was doing homework-"
"With your door closed. How many times do we have to tell you to leave it open?" She exclaimed, exasperated.
"I'm sorry-"
"Whatever. Sorry doesn't change anything. Why can't you just change your ways?" I bit my lip, knowing I would only make the matter worse if I spoke.
So I helped. When I entered the garage to help carry in the groceries, the garage door was open, and the crisp air filled my lungs and surrounded my fingers. My breaths just visible in the air.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Would anybody miss me if I stopped?
---
I sat curled up, huddled in a quilt, reading Harry Potter, again. A lot of people asked me how I read so much, so fast, but I could never answer them. It would sound depressing if I said I didn't have many friends and the ones I did have lived too far away to hang out after school. I flipped the page. after a few seconds, I prepared to flip it again, and it began to rain. I turned towards the window, watching it slide down the shingles and into the gutters, dark patches appearing wherever the rain fell. Droplets obscured my vision through the window. People think it's depressing to say you like it when it rains, but there's something about rain rolling down windows that I like.
---
Jerk.
Pathetic.
Idiot.
Weak.
The knife dug into my wrists, my arms. Skin split wherever the knife touched. Suddenly, the bathroom door, down the hall, opened, breaking me from my trance. I scrambled to replace the knife, only stumbling in my efforts to be fast.
"What were you doing?" My mom asked. I glanced around.
"Um, the dishwasher?" She looked at it to see it required emptying. She eyed me suspiciously and left.
---
During school the next day we had "teen topic day" where several speakers bore us to death talking about mental illnesses, drugs, and more things we should be "aware" about. One speaker told us about a girl that had "height problems" and had the greatest puns. She said things like she was the "bigger person than they are." Naomi and I laughed. then another speaker said that at least one of us would not make it to senior year. Everyone but me was confused, and when they asked them to clarify, he said that one of us would have died. He said nobody knew who.
He was right- nobody did know.
Assuming I was nobody.
---
Another complaint I had was the fact that they listed off some of the symptoms of depression. That was exactly what I needed- somebody to piece together the loss of sleep, change in appetite, and disinterest in activities. Some people may wonder what is so bad about sharing my problems, so let me spell it out for you.
One, they are my problems. MINE.
Two, earlier this year, I was sitting by my normal lunch clique, except some of them were missing because they were in for math-lunch-detention. Some teachers call them "lunch dates." I hate sugar coating. Sugar coating should die.) It was just Camille, Jonathan and I. Camille was venting, all depressed and whatever. I don't know what made me do it. I showed her the scars. She gasped.
"Wait... What!? Can I see them again?" And I slid my sleeve up once more.
"What?" Jonathan asked, clueless.
"Nothing," I responded. He raised an eyebrow.
"No, seriously. It was nothing." He eyed me suspiciously once more. "I was showing her this stupid temporary tattoo." What can I say? I'm fluent in lying.
---
A few days later the lines project began. For those of you who don't know what it is, it's where you draw a pink line on your right wrist if you support the project and multiple different colors that stand for different things (black for suicidal, yellow for eating disorder, etc.) I qualified for everyone except for purple, which stood for LBGT, or lesbian, bisexual, gay, or transgender. Camille applied, though. But she still applied for less than I.
---
Jonathan was too smart for his own good. He almost saw the lines. It was in FACE, or family and consumer education, We were sitting at a circular table, and our teacher was talking about the lab we were doing that day. She told us to assign jobs.
"Um, I'll sweep, uh... Jonathan do you want to do dishes?" I was thinking about the lines because the markers were so washable. I didn't want ink getting in the water.
"Wait.... Let me see your wrists." Oh crap oh carp oh crap. My brain went into emergency-panic-lie mode. Play dumb, evade, play for time. So I showed him my right wrist, where the pink line was drawn.
"No, the other wrist." I fumbled around and finally, she sent us to our labs. The fuzzy feeling of panic remained.
A/N
Sorry, a lot of these videos are Imagine Dragons. I just really like them. ^-^
YOU ARE READING
Encyclopedia Of Solitude
General FictionWARNING This book does not mean that I am depressed! I am only writing it because I have friends who are- in which I am dedicating this to them. Disclaimer- All of the videos I post are (usually) not mine. I DID NOT MAKE THEM.
