My mum did not take it well. Maybe it was because of the way I started off. Maybe it was because she was angry at me for doing this to her. Or maybe it was both.
"Mum, I've thought about killing myself."
Yep, definitely the way I started off.
She then started yelling at me and asking me why and then as I was telling her I started crying and then she started crying and then by the end of it, we were both stood in the kitchen of our council flat, crying into each other's shoulders. I made sure to leave out all the bits that included anything to do with my family playing a role in it. If I told her that she, my brothers, or my father had anything to do with it, I'd probably crush her.
I'd probably failed her. Disappointed her. But I couldn't help how I feel, no matter how much I wanted to. And I had to tell her before my drama teacher did. I didn't want to offend her by letting her know that I told my drama teacher before I'd told her. When we'd both finally calmed down, she asked me a question that I was completely unprepared for.
"How long?" And when she asked me that, all I could do was gape at her, open mouthed because I didn't know what to say. I didn't want her to know how long I'd been hiding it from her. I don't want to upset her anymore. But she deserves to know. So I'd swallowed my fear, my throat scratchy from the crying and staring at my kitchen table as I'd flopped into a seat, I told her.
"Two years."
-💀
YOU ARE READING
Faking Smiles
Short StoryI'm depressed. I'm unhappy. I want to die. The only thing stopping me from ending it all is pretending I'm okay until even I think it's true. But you wouldn't know that. Because you never bothered to ask. *Trigger Warning*
