The Photographs

Chapter 2

My alarm goes off, the chirping sounds of birds waking me from my dream. I'm lucky I slept at all, I'm usually up late every night or don't sleep at all. It's been like this ever since..well I won't get into it. I search for my phone hidden within my blanket, find it, and pull it out to check the time. 9:00. I have the talk group in an hour.

I sit up and swing my legs onto the floor, the cold of the hardwood touching the bottoms of my feet. I stand up and walk to my dresser, pulling the top drawer open and searching for a shirt to wear. Preferably long sleeved. I grab a grey, knit shirt and I go for the second draw to grab some jeans. As I'm searching through the blues and blacks, I touch a wood box, I'm guessing near the back of the drawer. I had totally forgotten that it was in here, the box with all of my letters written in it. Letters to my dad, mom, my friend Jenna, and other people long forgotten by the move to California.

I take it out from the drawer and open it, seeing the crinkled, lined papers neatly folded up inside. I grab one, which is made out to mom. It reads: "Mom, I know you will be disappointed in me but I can't do this anymore. I have no friends here, everyone stares at me and gives me looks only a crazy person would receive. I don't want to be that person anymore, so I'm leaving. Tell dad I love him". I look up to my dresser mirror as I'm folding the paper back up. I have major bags under my eyes and my lips are cracked and dry from the cold. I look down and close the box. I remember this letter very clearly, I had written it before I tried to kill myself. When I woke up in the hospital, mom told me that she was sorry things had ever gotten this bad for me. That I was worthwhile and that she would promise to make things better for me. Switch schools, take a trip back to North Carolina every summer for 2 weeks. My dad left soon after I returned home, and it took a big toll on my mom. I hated seeing her upset so much, everyday never saying a word except for "good morning" and "how was school". Sometimes the occasional "What would you like for breakfast?". My mom has gotten better, but I can still see the hurt in her eyes.

I place the box back in the drawer, and hide it with a couple pairs of jeans. After, I grab my favorite pair of black jeans, with the rips at the knee and purposefully-made bleach stains. I slide one leg in and then the other, being careful around the rips so I don't break them. Once fully up, I button all three of the buttons, and grab my phone off of the bed so put in my back pocket. I then take my shirt off the top of the dresser, pushing my arms through the sleeves and tugging the shirt over my head. "Before I forget", I think, and I grab my camera out of the dirty jeans on the floor, placing it on my dresser. I walk to the bathroom and get out my makeup bag, grabbing hold of the handle on top and raising it up to meet the countertop. I pull open one drawer and grab my hair brush, gently brushing my hair free of tangles. Then I set to work on my face...

Once I'm finished I check the time, which reads 9:15. Just enough time for breakfast. I grab a pair of socks and my beanie quickly out of my dresser, grab my camera, and run downstairs, another familiar creak from the floor boards when I reach the bottom. I grab my shoes by the bottom step and slip them on, tying the laces right after. "Olivia, your going to have to walk to your talk group today", I hear my mom say from the living room. "My back is hurting too much for me to drive you. Im sorry". "It's fine", I tell her. Guess food will have to wait until I get back. I grab my beanie off of the floor and walk past the kitchen and to the front door, stopping to grab my black, cable knit sweater from the hall closet. I put it on and stuff my beanie into the pocket. I grab my bag off of the coat rack as well and hang that on my shoulder, checking to make sure I have my wallet and house keys in it. I go to the door and grab the handle, twisting it open. "Bye mom", I yell as I step outside onto the front porch and close the door behind me, the cold air being the first thing that greets me.