Terrified

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The girl sat and wondered. Her emotions scattered her brain like the objects spread around her messy room. She wanted to cry, she'd come so close to crying many times that day. She wished she had have cried at those times so she could get it out before it was piled on top of the already falling pile of books. But she couldn't worry her family. She wouldn't worry them. Her mother already suffering from enough stress that day.

"Why are you so stressed?" Her mum has asked earlier.

She shrugged her shoulders and avoided the question then.

But she so desperately wanted to scream.

"I'm over due in school work, I have so much to do. Work is stressing me because I feel like I'm not doing good enough. I'm scared I'm losing my friends even though I just got them. I'm scared I'm disconnecting with my family slowly over time. I'm scared I'm a failure. I'm scared that if I don't pass all my subjects you'll hate me and feel so disappointed that you'll send me back to the place that caused this all. I'm scared. I'm so very fucking scared. I want to cry and feel emotions but I just can't. I bottle up the tears until late at night and then I let it all out and worry my friends. But shit, are they even worried? Or am I just another burden to them that they want to get rid of? I have so much to do and yet I don't do anything apart from lay in bed doing nothing. I have no motivation or will. I don't want to die, just to stop existing. I'm terrified out of my mind."

But the words never seemed to make it past her electric brain. They always seemed to stop before making it to her throat. Another book on the pile. More tears in the bottle. She couldn't possibly function right. It's been bad the past few days and she knows it. She's slipping back into her depression. Her depression where she shoves everyone away, even her friends. She hates it. She doesn't want to shove them away but she can't stop it. She's exhausted. She just wants to sleep. But the voices in her head give her insomnia-an eternity of late night thoughts.

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