Aunt Taylors P.O.V
I always thought that my niece Elena was an eccentric child ,even from birth.Her parents expected her to be a child prodigy. But she couldn't live up to their understandable expectations.
As she grew we secretly knew she would become a waster.No other way to put it.That's what we suspected anyway.
One night,we found her bloodied arms holding pills.I remember the disgust on her parents faces.And the confusion.They could deal with everything academic perfectly.But when emotions came to play,they were hopeless.
I remember her height,her eye color, hair color,her favorite subject and her least favourite etc.But as I write this,I realized I have learnt a valuable lesson.I didn't know the things about her that truly mattered. Her opinions,her thoughts,her ideas are all lost to the eternal blackness of death.I guess we will never get to discover them.Shame.
When she was small,she asked her mother about Heaven after learning about it in school that day."What's Heaven Mummy?"she asked with a cute curiosity,hard to deny its pleasure."Scientifically we can't prove it exists."her mother said.And seemingly she was content with that answer,probably unaware of its meaning.
That's one rare sweet memory.
I can't say I have many of her.
But I know mine are amongst the sweetest.
And that immensely satisfies me in whole.
And engenders a sweet,sickly ,bubbly feeling in my stomach.
She used to love reading books.Always the bookworm.Then highschool came and she started to fuck up her perfectly set up life.She drank.She smoked.She did drugs.She got suspended in her first year ,close to being expelled.
She wasn't like us.
But how could she when she didn't share our gene pool?
When she wasn't our blood relative.
She was adopted.Yes adopted.And she died as a lie,without hearing the truth.
My sister planned to tell her when she was eighteen but she didn't make that mark rite of passage of adulthood.She died a child.
When we cleared her room, we found a lot of loose sheets full of Latin.She spoke Latin.Another thing I didn't know about her.The rest were dusty books and old worn DVDs.
She was a wonderful girl in some respects in all honesty.She never dissed anyone ,she was loyal as a dog,a worthwhile friend to have.
And that my acquaintance is my epilogue for my eccentric niece,Elena Mackey ,late of 2010.
Mrs Taylor .
YOU ARE READING
The Depression Book
Teen FictionElena Mackey is 16 years old.She suffers from major depression and bulimia.She keeps a purple leather notebook which she calls " The Depression Book" where she writes about her condition mentally and physically.In this book,she goes through so much...
