Even After Forever | ✔

4. Criss Cross Apple Sauce

"And in the end, we were all just humans…drunk on the idea that love, only love could heal our brokenness." ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

Chapter 4. Criss Cross Apple Sauce

•Sawyer P.O.V•

Yesterday went quicker than I thought it would, the kids hung out with Chance's siblings while him and I worked on the project. We got into some more deeper, personal questions. After getting some of those finished we left around five, and I brought the kids back to the house.

Just when we got through the doors, Jillian, a girl who had been there for almost a year was walking down the staircase; a suitcase in her hands. Come to find out, she was adopted by a family. That leaving, Me, Britain, Meryl, and another girl named Willow. I know I wont be adopted, plus I'll be eighteen soon.

Britain and Meryl though, I have this feeling that no couple will want them. The two of them were put up as a package deal, meaning they wont ever be separated from one another. It was hard to convince Linda, but I did it. I just need to find them a stable home before I leave.

Its Saturday afternoon, and like every other Saturday, I lock myself in my room. My thoughts running over me, taking their chance to jab at me about everything. The thoughts I have are darker than the night sky, I swear it. People don't have to worry about breaking me or making me sad. Because you cant break something that's already broken and sadden someone who's already sad.

I don't know why I feel this way, I always look on the darker side of life I guess. I love the dark, its a mystery, its dullness almost numb. Its how I feel almost everyday. I always feel numb, I'm not happy with the way life is going; how its treating Britain and Meryl.

I don't know what I feel anymore, its like; if I were to walk into incoming traffic and I had a chance to move out of the way, I wouldn't. I wouldn't classify myself as suicidal, I just don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to feel the way I feel.

I'm just barely holding on, the line has gone this, and its frightening. I feel nothing inside, some nights I go to bed wishing I never wake up. That way I don't have to go through the pain everyday and fake it. I hate faking smiles when all I want to do is curl up into bed and cry myself to sleep.

The hardest thing about depression is you don't want to sound like a whiny unappreciative brat. How many times have I been told that I'll never be happy with what I have? I'm no fun. I just hate everybody, I just waste opportunities other would be so happy to have. I know this. I feel guilty, and sorry, I don't want to be like this.

I get so angry at myself, this is your fault, you need to make better decisions. Punching yourself in the face does not really solve anything. You're so smart and even more stupid. I'm no fun. I hate everybody.

"No ones perfect, that's why pencils have erasers." Someone once told me. Us humans have erasers to, but ours are deadly, they erase everything. Not just one mistake; but all of them. Gone.

I'm tired; tired of battling a war I lost long ago, I'm tired of trying to be perfect when I know I'm the exact opposite. Its tiring, putting on a show everyday of your life, just to make people believe your happy; when inside your broken into small pieces, making you wonder if you had ever existed.

A buzzing by my side pulls me out of my thoughts, I frown; puzzled on who would possibly text me on Saturday, or any day. I grab my phone and realise someone was calling me, "Hello?" I answer, perplexed.

I hear a deep chuckle on the other

end, "Mornin' Sawyer." His deep voice replies. I jostle upward in bed, patting down my messy hair. Why the hell is he calling me? Shouldn't he be busy doing something?