"Ro?" I gently tapped my knuckles on the door to Roman's room, a big elaborate thing with a ruby embedded door handle and tiny gold stars spiraling around the door handle and across the white frame. "Ro, it's time for dinner."
I hesitated when I didn't hear a boastful voice on the other side.
I remembered our conversation from earlier, and I couldn't help yanking my jacket sleeves over my hands anxiously.
Was... Was Roman avoiding me?
"Ro? I'm... I'm opening the door, okay?"
I opened the door slowly, waiting for a protest that didn't come. I took a step inside but I didn't make it much farther than that before I felt something get crushed under my purple sneakers. I lifted my foot to see a crumpled piece of paper, now which was partly sticking to the bottom of my shoe.
I peeled it off it, uncurling it to reveal Roman's light curly script.
A Letter To Myself, Unsent
Depression
"feelings of severe despondency and dejection"
Reduction of self expression
Indisposition
Not a decision
Only scared souls scrambling to slide into submission
And I am no exception.
I'm afraid that I have a confession
A progression
Of looking in my reflection and seeing imperfection -
What started as a question
Led to an obsession
Led to a possession
At the mere suggestion of society's rejection
Do I now have your attention?
I'm sorry, I'm sorry
I am victim to my ambition
My vision
My prison
An addiction to leave a good impression
Please tell me you have a suggestion
A correction
A direction
A invention
A intention
To help me free myself
Cause God am I desperate -
"Ro?" I hated the way that my hands and voice shook, the paper gripped tightly in my fists, crumpling it even further. "Ro?!"
I threw Roman's door open the rest of the way, eyes bouncing frantically around the room and -
To Roman.
Roman, who was currently curled in fetal position on the floor next to his bed, a sobbing, shaking mess.
I rushed forward, dropping to my knees next to him. "Ro," I whispered, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Roman let out a delayed cry - it didn't even sound like him, it sounded like an animal, a tiny, terrified animal.
Was... was Roman having an... anxiety attack?
Come on, Anxiety. This is supposed to be your area of expertise!
"H-Hey Ro," I stuttered pathetically. "Hey, e-everything is go-going to be o-okay. C-Can - Can you hear me?"
If Roman did hear me, he didn't give me a response.
I shifted so I was right in front of him, gasping a little at his dazed, unfocused eyes.
He couldn't see, couldn't hear - trapped in his own panic.
Oh God.
Deep breaths, deep breaths.
"Roman, c-can you just focus on my voice, can you hear the words I'm saying. You don't have to respond, just listen. I'm right here, I'm sitting right next to you. Everything is alright, just focus on me..."
____________________
I don't write poetry so forgive me if that was painful to read lol but I wanted to give it a try :)
And I know these are pretty short so far, hopefully they'll get longer when... I can type faster XD
(college is very time consuming)
