Demons and Angels (a memoir)

Home?

Home. But is it really? Or is it just the place where all my thoughts come alive? Gnawing at me from the inside out, like a demon that I can only let out. Sometimes I let him out little by little, but he wants more. There is only one way to do that. He's telling me, begging me, to let him out. I used to tell him no, that I'll let him out just a tiny bit. Now, I don't know what to do.

Back in my prison, confined under my covers. I missed dinner because of softball practice. Would I have eaten if I was on time? I'll never know. It's now 12:30 am, and sleep still eludes me.

A: "Are you still awake?"

J: "When am I ever asleep?"

A: "You need to sleep."

J: "A?"

A: "Yeah?"

J: "I wonder what it would be like if I just didn't wake up.."

I can't remember what was said after that last text. All I know is that I stared at the bottles of pills next to my bed. Wanting to take them, wanting to end it, wanting to give in to my demon's needs. But I couldn't. I didn't have the energy. I have been a prisoner to my bed for months now, only getting up for school, and I didn't even have the energy to end the pain. You know you're bad when you don't even have the energy to end it all. How coincidental it is that my depression is what kept me alive for my rescue. For the first time in these long months, I finally fell asleep.

My alarm woke me for yet another dreaded day of school. Same routine every morning, but today was different. While I was in the shower my Mom came in and started to yell, telling me my school counselor texted her and told her I was going to kill myself. She sat there and called me a liar and that I shouldn't tell people those things if I wasn't going to do it. The whole time I was being yelled at two thoughts ran through my head. Why is she yelling at me? Why doesn't she sound sad?

I usually don't feel anything, but now it feels as if my heart has been carved out by a dull knife. Why doesn't she care? Why am I being yelled at for something I can't control? Why is she crying, but my eyes feel like a desert? If my own mother doesn't care...then who does? Maybe I should have just done it last night. Why on Earth didn't I do it? A million questions race through my brain, but one sticks out.

What if my body didn't let me because it isn't meant to be?

That thought was the only thing that kept me going everyday. I didn't have anything but that thought. It felt as if a hole the size of a pin prick was letting light in, and I couldn't help but follow. This was the first time I saw something other than utter darkness.