My Better Half

Depression, Insomnia, And A Cat.

BANG! I felt the shot before I heard it. It was a Friday, and school had gotten out early, so my dad hadn't been there to pick me up. I had taken the bus half the way, then walked the rest. I had just walked in the door, and had started taking my shoes off when I suddenly felt like something wasn't right.

"Dad?" I called, slipping my other shoe off, and starting to creep up the stairs.

"Dad? Are you home?" I yelled up the stairs.

"Jessie! Don't come up here!" My dad called. I heard whispers coming from his room.

"Dad? Is there someone up there with you?"

"No! No, Jessie don't come any closer!" I heard.

"Dad! Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" I could hear him sobbing through the door.

"Dad, I'm coming in!" I announced, grabbing the doorknob.

"No!" He yelled. BANG. That's when I felt a cold hand clutch at my heart.

"DAD!" I screamed, flinging the door open, to reveal my father, slumped over his desk, a gun in his hand, and a bullet in his head.

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It was a suicide. It had to be! You read it yourself. Yeah I heard voices, but I’m ADHD, so I hear voices all the time. They’re usually just me trying to take the edge off. I’m my own comic relief. It was suicide. End of story. It was suicide. It was! Was it?

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I wake up at three in the morning, screaming. My mom runs in and asks if I’m okay.

“I’m fine.” I tell her.

“Are you sure?” She asks. I nod. She nods back, and leaves the room. I adjust myself on the old, but some what still comfortable couch. I’m sleeping in the living room, because I don’t have a bedroom. We can’t afford a two bedroom apartment. This was the best we could do. I know that I’m not getting back to sleep after that. I never do. This happens all the time. I wake up screaming, but I never remember why I was screaming. All I remember is a face. My face. But I know it’s not me. I sigh. This was going to be a long day, and the day technically hadn’t even started yet.

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“Did you ever go back to bed this morning?” My mom asks at nine o clock. I nod. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

“Liar.” She says. Never mind. I shrug.

“You have to get some sleep.” She tells me. I shake my head.

“It’s not like I’m not trying.” I say.

“Try a little harder.” She says, “Promise me?”

“I promise.” I tell her. I didn’t LIE exactly, I just didn’t... tell the truth. It’s not like I don’t WANT to sleep! I just can’t! I would ask to see a specialist, but that would cost a lot of money, that we don’t have. We barely had enough money for this month’s rent. As it is, we had to sell our TV, and the rest of my electronics. I don’t even have a cd player. Not that I’m complaining or anything. I roll off of the couch, and wiggle out of my pjs. I throw on a tank top, and some jeans, lace up my boots, and head for the door.

“There’s a five on the table! Get some coffee or something!” My mom yells at me. I roll my eyes. She knows I don’t drink coffee, but she insists it’s good for you.

“That’s a five that could be going to bills!” I yell back.

“Tips, Jess. We agreed that tips are for ourselves. Take it, get some breakfast. Please.” My mom’s a waitress at Bob Evans. I sigh.

“Fine. But I’m ordering off of the dollar menu, and you are getting the change!” I tell her, taking the five. She smiles.

“Fine with me. I’m going back to bed.” She yawns. I yawn with her.

“Stop that.” I tell her. She fake yawns. I real yawn.

“Stop it!” She smiles, and shuffles back to her room.

“Have fun at work.” She says.

“Thanks.” I say, throwing on my backpack. I step outside, into the dark, dank, morning. It was exactly 4:30 in the AM. I worked from 6 to 8 in the mornings, then I went to school for seven hours, and when I come home, my mom is at work, and she stays there until 2 in the morning. Which is why she sleeps all day. I strap my bag onto the back of my bike, and coast down the alley way. I stop to let Mr. Fuzzums, my neighbor from upstairs’ cat, pass by. He meows at me, and slinks around me, as if to say, “You’re in my way!”. Mr. Fuzzums doesn’t really like me. While I wait for him to move around my bike, I pull my hair back in a ponytail. My frizzy red hair isn’t really fit for much else. The cat finally moves, and I pedal my way into the street. The upside about living in Chicago? Lots of sidewalks. I ride down a few side streets, weaving my way in and out between buildings. Now you’re probably wondering why I left so early. It obviously doesn’t take me an hour and a half to get to where I work (It’s Verizon Wireless, if you were wondering.), but I have a few stops in mind. First off, Wal-Mart.