"It's Not Love If It Hurts" //5sos

/19/

Depression

When Calum said he was going to bed, Annie just nodded and let him go. She should've gotten up and went to her room, but she felt as if she couldn't. What was the point anyways? The couch was more comfortable than her bed of sheets on the floor.

But maybe it was too comfortable, because when Calum got up the next morning, Annie was still there, still asleep. He tried to wake her up, but in quiet times she asked if she could stay asleep. So Calum left for practice with Annie still asleep on the couch.

When Calum got home later that day, he started getting worried. Annie was still on the couch, though she wasn't asleep anymore. She just stared into blank space, not wanting to do anything, not wanting to eat anything.

Calum made her get up though, told her to go to the bathroom and he'd make her food. Annie did so, but when she ate the food it tasted bland and she didn't feel any better. She was sick- and it wasn't something that could be cured by eating or sleeping.

Annie didn't want to go on a walk either, but Calum insisted. When they walked down the pavement, Annie's eyes didn't jump from one pile of colorful leaves to the next like it had not too long ago. She looked only at the sidewalk, and on occasion, up just enough to see Calum's worried expression. He offered her a hand, but she didn't want his touch, his comfort. He offered her his jacket but she didn't want warmth. All she felt was numb, and she forgot what true emotions felt like.

That night, Annie fell back on the couch and closed her eyes, wanting to sleep.

She didn't sleep that night though. Just pretended.

In the morning, her eyes bags only made her look sicker. But what could she do- take tylenol?

Calum gave a list of simple tasks for Annie to do that day, hoping it would get her out of bed. It didn't. When he got home, Annie wanted to cry, wanted to apologize profusely for not being good enough, but she kept her eyes dry and her words balled up. She was truly, horribly sick.

And Calum didn't know what to do to help her.

  Luke came over the next day. He convinced Annie to watch some funny YouTube videos with him, but her laughter seemed forced. She didn't want to watch YouTube videos- she didn't want to do anything.

  That night Annie slept on the couch again. Calum got up for a midnight snack like he always did, walking past Annie who was supposed to be sleeping. At first he thought she was sleeping, but she wasn't. Annie just lay on the couch, her eyes open but unfocused, her breathing relaxed but heavy.

  "Annie?" Calum asked.

  No response.

  "Annie?" Calum asked more softly, walking over and kneeling in front of her. "Hey, are you feeling sick?"

  She looked at him, and he expected the glassy look to her eyes to go away, but it didn't. She looked... dead.

  Annie shook her head slightly. She wasn't sick, not really, not in the normal way.

  Calum had watched Annie go through all sorts of different emotions in her recovery, from her quiet sadness to her screams of anger. She had locked herself in her room, stopped talking, cried and sobbed and try to kill him- but this, this empty silence, scared him more than any of that did. Calum could handle all of that stuff. In all of her fits before, she had been filled with something- rage, remorse, revenge- but now she was just empty.