Ion Heart

Chapter 39: It only took...

A/N: Dear Readers, this is a very long chapter however I did not want to cut it in two. There are a lot of trigger warnings including depression, mild sexual abuse and suicide. Please, if this triggers you, skip the chapter or skip to the end. 

BBRey :)

It only took one drastic hair cut for everyone to notice.

'You're so brave!'

'It's so cute!'

'Why would you do that?'

'It looked better longer.'

It only took one particular class to change my day. 

'Alright, let's get started.' 

It only took two words to set me off. 

 I can feel my chest starting to tighten. 

'Discussing feelings.'

'I'd like to remind everyone that this should be a safe space and anything that is said in here should stay between us.' Mrs. Brooks says, starting to place us in groups. 

I end up with Peter. Why does the world hate me?

 'I like your hair.' He says, smiling his small smile.

'Em, thanks.' I mumble.

'Why did you decide to cut it?' 

I run my fingers through the shortened locks. Because you're dying. 'I don't know.' I shrug. 'Just needed a change.'

'So... question one. How are you feeling? Sad, happy, angry...'

This is ridiculous. 'Fine. I guess.'

'Ok, um, I feel... happy.' Peter smiles. 

I try to smile back. 

'Question two, how can I express my feelings to those around me?' Peter looks up expectantly like I might give more than a one-worded answer. 

My fingers start to fidget. I'm not about to tell Peter the reason why I feel on the verge of exploding. I fixate my eyes on my lap as I try to calm myself. You only have to survive for another thirty minutes. Peter sighs and mumbles the next question. 'What can I do to improve my wellbeing?'

My stomach starts to flip. 

'What should I do if something is worrying me?'

My breath hitches. 

'What should I do if I'm worried about a friend's... wellbeing?' Peter trails off, aware that my breathing has shallowed. 'Ask them if they're ok. And if you're really worried, speak to someone.' He says the words quietly, like they might shatter glass. I shut my eyes. Remember, you're not allowed to cry. 

'Katherine? Are you ok?' 

'You are killing yourself... You are dying!'

I take a deep breath, trying to stop my lungs from collapsing. How do you tell someone you're dying? That your body is rotting away? How do I tell Peter that if I pulled up my sleeve right now, he'd see the high-tech crossword puzzle that spreads its way up my arm. How do you say that you know something is wrong, but you don't know how to make it better? If it can be better. How do you tell someone that every day is hard and the effort required to get out of bed never seems to be worth it? How do you tell someone that you're constantly tired, stressed and ready to give up? How do you tell someone that you don't want to push them away but you do anyway? How do you tell someone you're broken and damaged? How do I tell Peter that I have depression?