Backstage Pass

If You Can't Hang

German was as it always was. I hadn't finished my homework again that day. Figure that, Mel Issacson didn't do her homework, I thought. My productivity had been slowing down I guess. A lot had been on my mind. With Improv, school, home, friends, and other shiznit going on, I didn't really know what to do anymore. The first bit of class passes by pretty quick. First, we have a snippet of class, then we have lunch, then more class. It was nice to take a lunch break in the middle of class. Foreign languages were tough, you know?

 Mr. Herrman was going on about everyone doing their best and whatever. I had heard this speech about ten times that week. It wasn't like I was an "Ugh, learning" kind of girl. I loved learning. I just didn't love passive aggressive speeches picking on kids half your age. 

I gave a look to Abagail, who was falling asleep. Crew was really killing her. Which is why I do not exercise, I thought to myself. I nodded at my thoughts, agreeing with the completely true fact that anything other than theater was irrelevant. 

Knock, knock.

Mr. Herrman stopped his speech and answered the door. It was one of those students that help the office hand out passes. It was sort of a lottery to us. All of us sat up, hoping we would get to leave class. The white slip of paper was our ticket away from fake smiling faces from teachers and the utter stupidity of most of our classmates. 

"Melody!" he announced with an underlying annoyance. I ran to the front of the classroom, snatched my pass, and ran out. 

Oh, fudge.

Melody Issacson

Office @ 10:45

Depression and Suicide Awareness

They were gonna talk to me. They were gonna ask about me and I was gonna tell them everything. Fact about me: I like to keep things bottled up, then I snap. So when I don't talk about my shiznitty life for quite a bit, I will tell anyone who will listen. Okay that's an exaggeration. I'll tell people I trust, who are totally understanding. Renee knows everything. So did Riley and Abigail. There was nothing stopping me from spilling it to some therapist who have heard sob stories all day today.

I took my time walking to the office. I figured there was going to be a billion people bawling their eyes out anyway. When I was alone, I was prone to think about the little things. At that moment I thought about how I walked. I walked in various ways; it depended on my mood. Today was kind of doing this Frankenstein marching thing. I was kicking my legs up and swinging my arms. People were giving me weird looks; I was used to it. 

An upperclassman was staring at me. She was pretty, with long brown hair and smooth, tan skin. She was whispering to some of her friends and they nodded. One of her friends laughed and the pretty upperclassman harshly shushed her.

"Hi! This is normal, don't worry," I waved at them. 

The pretty girl sneered at me and replied, "Gross, it talks."

Right, I nodded to myself. I gave them one last shaky smile before shuffling to the office. Self esteem? What self esteem?

 I thought I could lift my spirits by singing some songs from Disney. 

"What I love most about rivers is:

You can't step in the same river twice

The water's always changing, always flowing

But people, I guess, can't live like that

We all must pay a price

To be safe, we lose our chance of ever knowing

What's around the riverbend

Waiting just around the riverbend!"

People gave me quick glances, acknowledging my okay singing. I liked the idea of being a princess. I always have. I think I like Pocahontas the most, with Rapunzel and Cinderella coming in at second and third. My favorite Disney character by far would have to be Peter Pan though. I love Peter. I know the original story is really creepy but I don't really care. Disney sugar coats stuff. 

By the time I had finished "Just Around The Riverbend" I had arrived at the office. Aw shiznit, I walked too quickly! I scolded myself. It wasn't like I could just turn around and wander around the school. They were expecting me, I had to go. The office door opened, allowing a girl and some old guy out. She was bawling and the old guy, whom I assume was her father, had this rock solid frown on his face. Wow, that makes me feel confident, I thought. There were others, just as I had predicted. Guys, girls, in betweens, all silent or violently sobbing. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if the atmosphere could get any more depressing.

A woman walked out of one of the counseler's offices. She smiled wide at me and I forced a smile back. I probably looked like I swallowed a Nokia phone or whatever. She said, "Hi, are you Melody Issacson?" 

"Yeah, I'm Melody," I mumbled as I picked my finger nails. 

"Come with me, we're gonna have a chat," she motioned for me to enter the office. I inwardly sighed and stepped into the room. The wall were lined with quotes like "It is never too late to be what you might have been." and "The best way to predict the future is to invent it." Cheesy quotes disguised to be inspirational. I sat down in one of the two chairs in front of a wooden desk. Here we go.

The woman sat behind the dask and began, "So Melody, I saw that today you answered yes to every question in our survey. Do you want to tell me what's going on?" 

"Uh, it's... complicated," I tried avoided my imminent fate. I was going to tell her eventually, but maybe if I fought it, she would send me on my way. 

"Well, I'm here to help you so if you want to talk, I'm here to listen," she assured me. She sounded kind of sincere, you know, as sincere as a grown up can sound. 

"It's a long story," I admitted. 

"We've got lots of time," she pointed at the clock on the wall. There was a lot of time until class ended. I played with a lock of my hair and bit my lip. I was going to talk, I had to do it. I hadn't talked in a good while and it was eating me alive.

"I guess I should start at the beginning."