To be Alive

Part 2

           "Eunseo," My mother was standing in the doorway of the house.

I walked over to my mother. I made sure to throw on a hoodie to hide my scars—I didn't want anyone to see this weakness... not even my own mother.

"I don't know when I'll be back," She said as she put her hands on my shoulders, "So please don't do anything bad and wait for me."

"Ok," I said, though I didn't trust her. I looked down at my feet. How could I believe anyone after what I've been through? My own father took his own life, so how could I trust my mother? How do I know if she'll come back? How do I know that she isn't going to leave me and make things better for only her? I hated that thought, but at the same time I was fine with it—one less person to worry about me.

"I left some money in the safe so you can fend for yourself for a while, but you might need to work part-time." She said.

I nodded while still looking at the ground. I didn't bother to look at her face.

"I'm sorry," My mother started to cry, "I'll come back soon with a job."

My mother held me in a tight embrace. I felt her wet tears bleed through my hoodie. I should've cried, I should've comforted her, I should've hugged her back, but I didn't. Her eyes were red and swollen while mine were dry; I didn't even think about when she'd come back. At this point, I've lost my ability to empathize with anyone—quite inhumane.

~~~

I can't seem to recall a time when I was happy. My memory is just filled with sadness. All my memories just remind me of how useless and pitiful I am. My memory is just filled with useless phrases used to help me feel better, and for your information, it doesn't work. Right before high school, I went to my school counselor at my old school. I thought that they would help me feel better.

"Admitting that you have a problem is the first step to recovery," One of them had said.

I already know that I have problems. I've been trying to fix them. I've been trying to forget all the pain I had building up inside me. I realized one day, as I was hanging out with the people I deemed as friends, that I was strangely comfortable being in the dark. For some reason, sadness brought me more comfort than happiness would. I didn't want to be happy because it felt like these times I went through were trivial—nothing. I wanted to be happy; I wanted to stop the tears from flowing from my eyes at night when I thought about death. It was strange; every time I approached happiness it made me even sadder. I knew I had problems, I knew that I was a problem, so I don't deserve anything like happiness. What would happen when I become happy? Would my problems go away? Would they get worse? Or would my problems just turn into an illusion? Was I just trying to get attention? Was it all a lie? Questions that I never thought I could fathom overtook my mind. I lay down on a mattress of tears and pain, and I easily fell asleep.

I continued to go to the school counselor, but the more I went, the more she got tired of me.

"Aren't you ever going to get over this?" She asked one day. "There is nothing wrong with you, just get it out of your head."

That was the last day I went to seek help. I realized that people could care less about one insignificant individual. What's the use of helping someone that isn't going to benefit you? People only care about their own selves to be caught up in others problems.

~~~

"Eunseo may I speak to you?" My teacher said before I walked out the door to go to lunch.

"Yes," I said. "Is something wrong?"

"That's what I want to ask you," The teacher said as she took out my progress reports from the last two quarters. "The third quarter is ending soon, and look at what is happening to your grades."