11| don't you think nineteen's too young

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     AT THE AGE of fifteen Cait had been diagnosed with depression

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     AT THE AGE of fifteen Cait had been diagnosed with depression. She knew she had it for a while but as soon as she started to model at sixteen, she had found confidence in herself she never knew she had. After a couple of unsteady years and her best friend beside her she had finally beaten it and was living a healthy life at eighteen.

     It was still there of course, it never really goes away and what doesn't help is society. Every time she logs onto her phone she is bombarded with hate messages and the media ripping her apart. Shawn always told her that they were just cowards behind a screen but most of them were true; she was a slut - she had gone out with most guys in Hollywood and all of them failing, she was ugly - she knew it wasn't her they wanted for front page magazines, they just wanted her face to put makeup on and edit. Sometimes she didn't even know who she was when her agent told her about her new cover for Elle or when they drove past a large billboard for her campaign with Gucci.

     She had just posted the photo of her and KJ walking down the pier together. It was beautiful. The sky was the softest of blues and the water was clear; you could see the fish and creatures swim by. She didn't know what to expect from the kiss. He hadn't spoke about it so she never brought it up but Cait knew there was something. She felt it.

     She was scrolling through the comments and smiling at them until they eventually started to pop up; the negative ones, the judging ones.

"You're such a slut"
"Why do you even model?"
"He's too good for a tramp like you!"
"Kill yourself"

      It was the last one that threw the final punch. Cait had never gotten a comment as severe as that before. Yes, she was used to people hating on her but something about that post on that photo made her unstable. Her hands began to shake and her phone dropped onto the rug on the wooden floor. She took in her deep breaths and she tried to calm herself down. Cait knew she was overreacting. It was just a comment. It didn't mean anything.

     But to her it meant everything.

     Her feet began to tingle. The air had been sucked out of the room. The blood pounded in her ears. Reaching her arm onto the dresser, she tried to stabilize herself but instead her arm slid off making a vase come crashing down. Pieces smashed everywhere and she curled up into a small ball. The water of her tears had successfully drowned her face and her lungs shrunk so small that no air could get in.

     One knock.

     "Hey, I heard a smash, you okay?"

     That accent.

     "Hey."

     Two knocks.

     "If you don't reply I'm coming in, okay?"

     Three knocks.

     "Damn it, Cait."

     She heard him shout as he barged through the door and he saw her lying there. Like she was a doll, he gently picked her up making sure not to break her. He brought Cait's head to his chest and he started to stroke her hair in a soothing motion.

     "Hey, it's okay. Listen to my heart, breath with me," and he took one breath in and she copied. At the same time his heart rate fell down and she was now breathing at the same rate as his heart. Slowly, she closed her eyes to calm herself down one last time but KJ had lifted her onto the bed and she forgot to open them again.

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[10.26.17]

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