I'm spending the whole day with Alyson.
She gave me the biggest scare I've ever felt in my whole entire life last night when I was at her house, and I knew I needed to spend more time with her then, I can't leave her alone for a minute, I'm too scared. I don't want her to leave me at all, but I don't want her to leave me when I'm not there to hold her hand.
I was sitting talking with her like I always do, laughing about something that happened at school this week, when all of sudden she started acting like she was choking, and her heart monitor began to beep really loudly.
"Aly, what's wrong?" I stood over her, I didn't know what to do.
Her face was turning a blue and she was clutching at my shirt, her eyes were wide and dilated.
"Mrs. Sawyer!!!" I screeched, my hands were shaking and I felt like I couldnt talk.
Alyson's mother ran into the room, grabbing some sort of mask and pressing it over Aly's mother.
"Just breathe Honey, mommy's here", her mother stroked her hair.
I just stood back in shock, watching Aly's chest go in and out, she was breathing normal again.
Mrs. Sawyer cleared her throat, "All better then", she smiled at me, leaving the room.
The mask was still on, and Aly was looking over at me with shame in her eyes.
I took the mask off, letting Aly let out a long breath.
"I'm sorry about that, Violet", she said.
I gritted my teeth, "It's fine, just never do it again".
Aly laughed softly, "Ok".
"Is it scary, Aly?" I sat down beside her.
"Is what scary?"
I just looked at her.
She sighed, "it used to be. Now its just like waiting for the one time when ur going to stop breathing altogether."
I caught my breath, "Can I ask you something?"
She shrugged, "Of course".
"When the doctor told you about the option to self terminate, did you think about it?"
"You mean when he told me i was terminal?" she looked over at me with concern etched in her eyebrows.
I nodded.
Aly turned her head toward the window, "Do we have to talk about this right now, Vi?"
"Answer the question Alyson Jane".
Aly sighed, "Look, there are times in life when you are going to want to give up, but you know you can't. If there is a chance at all that you can stand up aand fight, then you take it, you don't lie back and do nothing", Aly's face got very angry and she gritted her teeth like a rabid dog.
"You mean like your doing now?" I mumbled.
Aly sighed, her little chest heaving, "Violet, it's been five years since I was diagnosed with cancer. Five years spent not knowing if I was going to make it through the night, if I was going to have another birthday, if I was going to be able to breath by myself the next day. Now I know what's going to happen, no more guessing, no more wondering, no more fearing. Wouldn't you give anything to know that all your pain was going to stop?" Aly's eyes filled with tears.
"I could stop it myself if i wanted too, Aly. I could end it all by myself, just like you said. No more guessing, no more wondering, no more fearing. I am so damn tired of hopign things are going to get better for me, I would rather know my mind is made up that I am going to get myself out of this god-awful place then spend years in turmoil waiting for a bus to run me over or a car to run me off a cliff".
Aly rolled her eyes, chuckling, "You know the chances of either of those things is like one in a ten thousand?"
"You know the chances of getting cancer are like one in a million?"
Aly's smile dropped, "If you're going to be so cynical you can leave, Violet", she said, crossing her arms.
I groaned, "Look, I'm just trying to cope with all of this ok, on top of everything else going on in my life now i have to deal with my best friend dying? It's not fair, Alyson!"
Alyson sat up in bed, something she never does, "Life's not fair, Violet! All you ever do is whine about how your life is so miserable. I'm so depressed right now, Alyson, why doesn't God love me, Alyson?! Give it a rest, alright? Don't you dare for one second think that you have it worse then i do! You have no idea what it's like to have to lie in this bed every waking moment and think "I'm going to die soon". You could have everything you ever wanted, but you choose to soak in your own self pity? Do yourself a favor Violet, grow up!"
I sat down, speechless. SHE IS SO RIGHT.
Why the hell am I depressed? I'm a great person, my life doesn't suck, what's the matter with me?
"I'm sorry, Alyson", I whisper.
Alyson closes her eyes, "It's fine, Violet, I'm going to get some rest now, I'll see you tomorrow", Alyson turned over, laying her head down on her pillow.
I nod, standing up. I'm about to head out the door when Alyson speaks again.
"Oh hey, by the way, If I'm not here tomorrow, would you mind doing something for me?" she asks, figeting a little.
"Anything for you, Al", I try to smile.
Alyson smiles back, "Be my parents new daughter".
I laugh, "Sorry Al, I could never replace you".
"Well, would you at least try?" she asks me, a serious look on her little face.
I bit my lower lip, "Ok Alyson, I'll try".
She nods, "Thank you Violet, I love you". She settles into bed.
I turn out the light as I leave, "Love you too, Kiddo".
Saturday, June 26, 2010
11:11 p.m.
Aly sleeps a lot when I come over, but she tries to stay awake to talk to me. She says she worries too much about how I'm doing.
"Hi Aly", I try to smile for her.
"I know when you're faking it", she whispers.
I sigh, "Your too good".
She smiles, "No, you're just not good at hiding it is all".
I roll my eyes, talking with Alyson always brings about sarcasm.
I like sarcasm, I use it a lot and she understands it. When I talk with Alyson I actually feel normal for awhile.
"You know, it's getting late", Alyson says.
I shrug, "so?"
"You have to make a wish soon", she tells me.
I don't know what she's talking about.
"At 11:11 p.m. your supposed to make a wish", she tells me.
I grin, that's so old that no one does it anymore, only Alyson wouldn't know that and remember it.
"Yes, that's right, I almost forgot", I nod, playing along.
Alyson lowers her eyes to my level, "What do you wish for, Vi?" she whispers, her voice is soft and barely audible, I'm afraid soon she won't be able to talk at all.
I blink, "I wish for you to get better".
I would too, I pray for her ALL the time, and I don't even know if I believe is God. But I still do it, because I'm afraid if there is one and I don't pray he won't make her better, so now I'm acting as if there is a god, and I'm begging him to make her better.
Alyson tries to shake her head, "Don't".
I almost laugh, "Aly, you need to get better".
Aly sighs, "It's pointless wishing for things that you know aren't going to be granted".
I feel tears brimming my eyes, what happened to the little girl who was always so optimistic about everything? What happened to the little girl who could make me laugh even when she knew I didn't want to do anything but sulk? I wanted that little girl back, I wanted my friend back, I wanted my Alyson back.
"You don't know it won't be granted", my voice cracked, the tears threatened to penetrate my stong demeanor.
"Yes I do. I'm not dumb, I know I'm going to-"
"Please Aly, don't say it", I shook my head, coming up to sit on the edge of her bed.
"Violet, listen to me. Everyone dies, it's not something you can avoid, but you, you can live! Your healthy, beautiful, talented, and you can be anything you want to be", Alyson smiled warmly at me.
I sighed heavily, "I'm not exactly healthy, Al".
Aly frowned, "Always the pessimist aren't we?"
I rolled my eyes, "Look whose talking".
Aly fumed, "Violet, I am being optimistic. I am going to go to heaven soon, and theres no place better then heaven".
I couldn't help it, I let the tears begin to fall, "Here is better, here you can be with me, you can help me get through this", I gulped down a heavy lump in my throat.
Alyson reached out to touch my cheek, "I'm going to wish for you to be happy, Violet".
No point in wishing for things that can't be granted.
I smiled, "Okay".
Alyson looked over at the clock, "It's 11:11 p.m, make a wish".
I just sigh and shake my head, "There's no point in wishing for things that can't be granted".
"Hi Aly", I try to smile for her.
"I know when you're faking it", she whispers.
I sigh, "Your too good".
She smiles, "No, you're just not good at hiding it is all".
I roll my eyes, talking with Alyson always brings about sarcasm.
I like sarcasm, I use it a lot and she understands it. When I talk with Alyson I actually feel normal for awhile.
"You know, it's getting late", Alyson says.
I shrug, "so?"
"You have to make a wish soon", she tells me.
I don't know what she's talking about.
"At 11:11 p.m. your supposed to make a wish", she tells me.
I grin, that's so old that no one does it anymore, only Alyson wouldn't know that and remember it.
"Yes, that's right, I almost forgot", I nod, playing along.
Alyson lowers her eyes to my level, "What do you wish for, Vi?" she whispers, her voice is soft and barely audible, I'm afraid soon she won't be able to talk at all.
I blink, "I wish for you to get better".
I would too, I pray for her ALL the time, and I don't even know if I believe is God. But I still do it, because I'm afraid if there is one and I don't pray he won't make her better, so now I'm acting as if there is a god, and I'm begging him to make her better.
Alyson tries to shake her head, "Don't".
I almost laugh, "Aly, you need to get better".
Aly sighs, "It's pointless wishing for things that you know aren't going to be granted".
I feel tears brimming my eyes, what happened to the little girl who was always so optimistic about everything? What happened to the little girl who could make me laugh even when she knew I didn't want to do anything but sulk? I wanted that little girl back, I wanted my friend back, I wanted my Alyson back.
"You don't know it won't be granted", my voice cracked, the tears threatened to penetrate my stong demeanor.
"Yes I do. I'm not dumb, I know I'm going to-"
"Please Aly, don't say it", I shook my head, coming up to sit on the edge of her bed.
"Violet, listen to me. Everyone dies, it's not something you can avoid, but you, you can live! Your healthy, beautiful, talented, and you can be anything you want to be", Alyson smiled warmly at me.
I sighed heavily, "I'm not exactly healthy, Al".
Aly frowned, "Always the pessimist aren't we?"
I rolled my eyes, "Look whose talking".
Aly fumed, "Violet, I am being optimistic. I am going to go to heaven soon, and theres no place better then heaven".
I couldn't help it, I let the tears begin to fall, "Here is better, here you can be with me, you can help me get through this", I gulped down a heavy lump in my throat.
Alyson reached out to touch my cheek, "I'm going to wish for you to be happy, Violet".
No point in wishing for things that can't be granted.
I smiled, "Okay".
Alyson looked over at the clock, "It's 11:11 p.m, make a wish".
I just sigh and shake my head, "There's no point in wishing for things that can't be granted".
Conversations with the Dark Thing 2
Dark Thing: Hello Violet.
Me: Go away, I know why you're here.
Dark Thing: No one's home Violet and theres so much glass on the floor...
Me: I am going to clean up the glass and throw it away now
Dark Thing: Don't do anything rash now Violet.
Me: What you're asking me do is rash.
Dark Thing: Oh Violet...
Me: Stop saying my name
Dark Thing: Does that bother you...Violet?
Me: Go away, I'm not going to talk back.
Dark Thing: Yes you are. Pretty little Violet with lips that taste like cherry pie...
Me: STOP IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dark Thing: I'm not going to stop, Violet.
Me: Yes, you are!
Dark Thing: Hush Violet, just do what I'm telling you to do. Pick up the glass shard.
Me: No.
Dark Thing: Violet...
Me: I'm not picking it up, so you might as well just go away now.
Dark Thing: You'll pick it up. Don't you want to feel the cold glass against your skin, feel the blood rush out of that wound like a wave? Feel your eyes roll back into your head like your going to black out?
Me: NO.
Dark Thing: I know you don't mean that, Violet.
Me: I'm not your play thing, you can't tell me what to do.
Dark Thing: Yes I can, I've been doing it for 8 years, no need to stop now.
Me: Yes there is, I'm not listening anymore
Dark Thing: Come on Violet, be a good girl for me
Me: I am a good girl, which is why I'm not listening to you anymore
Dark Thing: Pick up the glass, Violet!!!
Me: No!!!
Dark Thing: *sigh* Violet, pick up the glass...Please.
Me: Don't say please, just don't say it.
Dark Thing: Violet, I'm asking you nicely now, pick up the shard of glass.
Me: *crying, crumpled up on the kitchen floor* Look, I'm bleeding, alright? Theres blood on my hands, ok? Please, just go away.
Dark Thing: Thank you
Me: Go away, I know why you're here.
Dark Thing: No one's home Violet and theres so much glass on the floor...
Me: I am going to clean up the glass and throw it away now
Dark Thing: Don't do anything rash now Violet.
Me: What you're asking me do is rash.
Dark Thing: Oh Violet...
Me: Stop saying my name
Dark Thing: Does that bother you...Violet?
Me: Go away, I'm not going to talk back.
Dark Thing: Yes you are. Pretty little Violet with lips that taste like cherry pie...
Me: STOP IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dark Thing: I'm not going to stop, Violet.
Me: Yes, you are!
Dark Thing: Hush Violet, just do what I'm telling you to do. Pick up the glass shard.
Me: No.
Dark Thing: Violet...
Me: I'm not picking it up, so you might as well just go away now.
Dark Thing: You'll pick it up. Don't you want to feel the cold glass against your skin, feel the blood rush out of that wound like a wave? Feel your eyes roll back into your head like your going to black out?
Me: NO.
Dark Thing: I know you don't mean that, Violet.
Me: I'm not your play thing, you can't tell me what to do.
Dark Thing: Yes I can, I've been doing it for 8 years, no need to stop now.
Me: Yes there is, I'm not listening anymore
Dark Thing: Come on Violet, be a good girl for me
Me: I am a good girl, which is why I'm not listening to you anymore
Dark Thing: Pick up the glass, Violet!!!
Me: No!!!
Dark Thing: *sigh* Violet, pick up the glass...Please.
Me: Don't say please, just don't say it.
Dark Thing: Violet, I'm asking you nicely now, pick up the shard of glass.
Me: *crying, crumpled up on the kitchen floor* Look, I'm bleeding, alright? Theres blood on my hands, ok? Please, just go away.
Dark Thing: Thank you
I'm Looking for an Answer
Teachers think they know everything, but they don’t.
Chemistry is the dullest class ever, especially when my teacher Mrs. Krud (yes, that’s her real name) drones on and on about carbon solutions and blah, blah, blah.
I’m usually lost by the time she says the word “Today” at the very beginning of cass.
It’s easier to daydream, most of the time it’s about pickign up a two-by-four and shooting up Mrs. Krud’s classroom. I don’t have many violent thoughts when it comes to other people, but Mrs. Krud is the devil reincarnated, how a man ever came to marry her is beyond me.
“Violet, do you know the answer?” I wasn’t paying attention today, which is why she chose me to annihilate.
It’s not that I don’t care about Chemistry, I’m actually quite good at it and get all A’s on everything in there, I think I just baffle the hell out of Mrs. Krud, she thinks If I was failing and not paying attention, I’d be a lot more fun to torment.
“Answer to what?” I blink, jerking my head in her direction.
Now I’m screwed, here comes the smoke billowing out of Krud’s ears like someone just put out a fire.
“Is life pointless?”
I don’t know why we are talking about this today, I’ve missed the whole lecture, but I can tell Krud is already aware of this by the devilish grin on her face.
I turn my head away, beginning to day dream again.
Is life pointless? Yes. No. Maybe so.
Pointless: meaningless, unproductive, futile.
Yeah, I’d say that just about sums up life.
Life is meaningless. You can’t put on a meaning on it because then you have to live up to that meaning, and you can’t, because Life isn’t something you live up too, it’s just something you do, or don’t do.
Life is unproductive. I could squander an hour sitting on the coach watching movies and television and eating popcorn all day, but I’m still living. We are all unproductive, which means life itself is also.
Life is futile. Why live when you could be dead forever? You can’t live forever, not yet anyway, so it’s pointless to try, pointless to think, pointless to keep on going.
Pointless, pointless, pointless.
“Well Ms. Blake, I’m looking for an answer”, Mrs. Krud stood at the front of the room, hands placed on pudgy hips.
The bell rang.
I smiled, “sorry, time’s up”.
Chemistry is the dullest class ever, especially when my teacher Mrs. Krud (yes, that’s her real name) drones on and on about carbon solutions and blah, blah, blah.
I’m usually lost by the time she says the word “Today” at the very beginning of cass.
It’s easier to daydream, most of the time it’s about pickign up a two-by-four and shooting up Mrs. Krud’s classroom. I don’t have many violent thoughts when it comes to other people, but Mrs. Krud is the devil reincarnated, how a man ever came to marry her is beyond me.
“Violet, do you know the answer?” I wasn’t paying attention today, which is why she chose me to annihilate.
It’s not that I don’t care about Chemistry, I’m actually quite good at it and get all A’s on everything in there, I think I just baffle the hell out of Mrs. Krud, she thinks If I was failing and not paying attention, I’d be a lot more fun to torment.
“Answer to what?” I blink, jerking my head in her direction.
Now I’m screwed, here comes the smoke billowing out of Krud’s ears like someone just put out a fire.
“Is life pointless?”
I don’t know why we are talking about this today, I’ve missed the whole lecture, but I can tell Krud is already aware of this by the devilish grin on her face.
I turn my head away, beginning to day dream again.
Is life pointless? Yes. No. Maybe so.
Pointless: meaningless, unproductive, futile.
Yeah, I’d say that just about sums up life.
Life is meaningless. You can’t put on a meaning on it because then you have to live up to that meaning, and you can’t, because Life isn’t something you live up too, it’s just something you do, or don’t do.
Life is unproductive. I could squander an hour sitting on the coach watching movies and television and eating popcorn all day, but I’m still living. We are all unproductive, which means life itself is also.
Life is futile. Why live when you could be dead forever? You can’t live forever, not yet anyway, so it’s pointless to try, pointless to think, pointless to keep on going.
Pointless, pointless, pointless.
“Well Ms. Blake, I’m looking for an answer”, Mrs. Krud stood at the front of the room, hands placed on pudgy hips.
The bell rang.
I smiled, “sorry, time’s up”.
Heaven Can Wait
I went to visit Alyson today, like always do on Tuesdays.
Her mother answered the door, just like she always does when I knock on the door.
“It’s so nice to see you Violet, I bet Alyson will be delighted to see you”, her mother smiled at me, the same smile she ways gave me.
It annoys me, that smile the whole family seems to have painted on their faces, even Alyson. No one can be happy to have their child dying, no one can be happy that they’re dying of cancer, but still I see those smiles on their faces every time I visit, and I kind of envy them for being able to at least fake it.
I don’t even have to ask if Alyson is upstairs because she hasn’t left her bed in two months, so I trudge up the stairs to go visit my best friend.
“Alyson?” I whisper into the peeking shadow of her bedroom. I don’t know if she’s sleeping so I always whisper first just in case she is.
“I’m awake, Violet”, Alyson croaks.
I catch my breath, letting myself into the room and shutting the door quietly behind me.
“How was school?” Alyson laughs.
I give her a wince, “How do you think?”
Alyson laughs, “That great, huh?”
I chuckle, sitting down in my favorite chair, the one with the comfy seat and squishy arms that has rubber ducks on the back of it.
“How have you been?” Alyson asks me.
Even though I know she’s referring too my depression and my suicidal tendencies I don’t want to answer her truthfully, she thinks too much of me to even think that I could kill myself.
I shrug, “fine”.
Alyson shakes her head, “That wasn’t very convinving, Vi”.
I growl, “What do you expect, school isn’t exactly heaven”.
Alyson’s face drops to a glassy eyed stare, “Violet, do you think there is such a thing as heaven?”
I opened my mouth to respond but I can’t. I can’t tell her that I don’t know what I believe anymore, I can’t tell her that I think all that happens when you die is you stop breathing and then you’re stuck in nothingness, I can’t let her down like that.
“Of course there is Alyson, that’s a stupid question”, I cross my arms over my chest and pretend to be looking out the window.
“I’m going there soon”, Alyson is tracing her pale fingers across her quilted blanket.
I whipped my head around to look at her with a tight expression, “No you’re not”.
Alyson sighs heavily, “You can’t deny it forever Violet, and besides I’m tired of waiting”.
I jump out of the chair, ready to knock things around the room.
“Heaven can wait, Aly!”
Alyson turns over in the bed, yawning, “No, it can’t”.
I sit in her room for what seems like hours, just staring at the sky, watching heavens clouds fade and the moon begin to shine.
I close my eyes, “Please wait for her”.
Her mother answered the door, just like she always does when I knock on the door.
“It’s so nice to see you Violet, I bet Alyson will be delighted to see you”, her mother smiled at me, the same smile she ways gave me.
It annoys me, that smile the whole family seems to have painted on their faces, even Alyson. No one can be happy to have their child dying, no one can be happy that they’re dying of cancer, but still I see those smiles on their faces every time I visit, and I kind of envy them for being able to at least fake it.
I don’t even have to ask if Alyson is upstairs because she hasn’t left her bed in two months, so I trudge up the stairs to go visit my best friend.
“Alyson?” I whisper into the peeking shadow of her bedroom. I don’t know if she’s sleeping so I always whisper first just in case she is.
“I’m awake, Violet”, Alyson croaks.
I catch my breath, letting myself into the room and shutting the door quietly behind me.
“How was school?” Alyson laughs.
I give her a wince, “How do you think?”
Alyson laughs, “That great, huh?”
I chuckle, sitting down in my favorite chair, the one with the comfy seat and squishy arms that has rubber ducks on the back of it.
“How have you been?” Alyson asks me.
Even though I know she’s referring too my depression and my suicidal tendencies I don’t want to answer her truthfully, she thinks too much of me to even think that I could kill myself.
I shrug, “fine”.
Alyson shakes her head, “That wasn’t very convinving, Vi”.
I growl, “What do you expect, school isn’t exactly heaven”.
Alyson’s face drops to a glassy eyed stare, “Violet, do you think there is such a thing as heaven?”
I opened my mouth to respond but I can’t. I can’t tell her that I don’t know what I believe anymore, I can’t tell her that I think all that happens when you die is you stop breathing and then you’re stuck in nothingness, I can’t let her down like that.
“Of course there is Alyson, that’s a stupid question”, I cross my arms over my chest and pretend to be looking out the window.
“I’m going there soon”, Alyson is tracing her pale fingers across her quilted blanket.
I whipped my head around to look at her with a tight expression, “No you’re not”.
Alyson sighs heavily, “You can’t deny it forever Violet, and besides I’m tired of waiting”.
I jump out of the chair, ready to knock things around the room.
“Heaven can wait, Aly!”
Alyson turns over in the bed, yawning, “No, it can’t”.
I sit in her room for what seems like hours, just staring at the sky, watching heavens clouds fade and the moon begin to shine.
I close my eyes, “Please wait for her”.
Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Unhappiness
American History is full of crap.
I don’t think suicide or depression exsisted back in the days of our founding fathers, or else they would’ve known that not everyone is in pursuit to find happiness.
I think people unconsciously look for ways to be unhappy. I mean, they cut themselves off from their family, their friends. They cut up their wrists to watch the blood flow and the pain increase. They drink and drink until they’re so down in the dumps that they put a gun to their head and pull the trigger. They constantly look for ways to make themselves unhappy, and it usually ends up killing them.
But we still look for it, pine for it, make it our only pursuit. Somehow, in the shallow pit of things, we don’t care about being happy anymore, and sometimes Life stops being all about looking for the things that make us happy, and instead it becomes about looking for the things that make us unhappy, the things that we can count on to make our lives miserable, because that meets our expectations.
We expect to find unhappiness. I mean, it is so much easier to find it then it is to find happiness, so much cheaper, so much more convenient.
Maybe everyone is just looking for happiness, but if you never find it, then you’ll always be unhappy. Maybe thats what all those important men were trying to tell us, “pursue happiness all you want, your entitled to it, but I wouldn’t recommend it because you’ll most likely end it up making yourself miserable just searching for it”.
Yeah, I’m sure something along those lives exsists somewhere in the consitution.
I don’t understand history at all, but I know I am not going to pursue happiness, its just not worth it.
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Unhappiness“
I don’t think suicide or depression exsisted back in the days of our founding fathers, or else they would’ve known that not everyone is in pursuit to find happiness.
I think people unconsciously look for ways to be unhappy. I mean, they cut themselves off from their family, their friends. They cut up their wrists to watch the blood flow and the pain increase. They drink and drink until they’re so down in the dumps that they put a gun to their head and pull the trigger. They constantly look for ways to make themselves unhappy, and it usually ends up killing them.
But we still look for it, pine for it, make it our only pursuit. Somehow, in the shallow pit of things, we don’t care about being happy anymore, and sometimes Life stops being all about looking for the things that make us happy, and instead it becomes about looking for the things that make us unhappy, the things that we can count on to make our lives miserable, because that meets our expectations.
We expect to find unhappiness. I mean, it is so much easier to find it then it is to find happiness, so much cheaper, so much more convenient.
Maybe everyone is just looking for happiness, but if you never find it, then you’ll always be unhappy. Maybe thats what all those important men were trying to tell us, “pursue happiness all you want, your entitled to it, but I wouldn’t recommend it because you’ll most likely end it up making yourself miserable just searching for it”.
Yeah, I’m sure something along those lives exsists somewhere in the consitution.
I don’t understand history at all, but I know I am not going to pursue happiness, its just not worth it.
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Unhappiness“
Just Pretend You're Happy
For those of you wondering why I'm depressed, heres most of the story.
Dr.Meyers office was bleach white, the kind that made your eyes hurt if you looked at it for too long. You'd think having to sit there at a plain little desk all day in that pale room would kill a person. Turns out their are worst things.
"You could try talking about it", Dr.Meyers glasses were square, they weren't exactly out of style, but they seemed a bit nerdy to me.
I shook my head, balling my knees up to my chest. I bit down on my nail beds, a habit I had had since I could remember.
I sucked in the blood that came pouring out of my thumb.
"Let's talk about your siblings then", Dr. Meyers had a lemon yellow notepad sitting on his lap, one of those clicking pens bobbing against his knee.
I nodded, shaking my long blonde do around my head.
"What's your sisters name?"
"Elizabeth Jane Blake".
I'd recited this a thousand times, a million times by now, but I still needed the warm-up, I wasn't used to talking to anyone about anything, so this was just practice.
I smiled as Dr. Meyers kept tapping the pen on his clipboard. It seemed funny to me that he should have to write down if I said anything worth repeating to the authorities, didn't they think if I wanted to tell them, I would have?
"And your older brother?"
I swallowed a lump in my throat, "Cody Daniel Blake".
Dr. Meyers sighed, "You're going to have to tell me about it eventually, Violet".
I closed my eyes, I didn't have to say anything. As long as I was sitting there with my mouth shut, all he could do was moan and groan about how I was uncooperative, a complaint I heard all too often from him.
Dr. Meyers reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, a gentile, cold hand.
I jerked back, throwing myself up and into one of the walls near the door.
Dr. Meyers blinked, "You need to tell me about that", he said.
I gritted my teeth, trying to make the images in my head go away that had immediately sprang into my mind.
"Fine", I sat back down on the frigid leather couch.
I took in a slow breath, and waited for the click of Dr. Meyers pen.
"Well, It all began when my mother and father seperated"...
I was eight years old when my dad moved into his own house with his girlfriend and an old high school roommate. I didn't think much of it, my Dad was around just as much as he was before he moved out, which was almost never.
He left me alone with that roommate a lot when he and his girlfriend were at work or partying at night. I knew it wasn't fair, he was supposed to be spending time with me, that's why I went over there every weekend, but theres nothing I could do about it, so I let it go.
I didn't mind being there until one day, one scalding August day when I decided I was going to play with the hose out in the back yard. It was dwindling into the late afternoon when I finally decided to go inside and do something else for the remainder of the day, so I went into my room and started to peel of my wet bathing suit.
That's when I felt his eyes on me, scanning over my little body and looking at me like he was inside a candy store.
"Can I help you?" I asked, feeling awkward and exposed.
He didn't speak, didn't say one word, he just came into my room and started...touching me.
That's how it started. After that he came into my room at night when no one but me was home. I dreaded going there, having to look at him all the time and watch him strip me down and have his way with me until i screeched and screeched for him to leave me alone.
I would pull the covers up over my head at night and pray he didn't come into my room, but he always did.
It got worse. I tried to get him to stop, I even tried to kick him once, but he was too strong for me. He grabbed my by my arms and shook me senseless, slapping me across the face time and time again. He would strap me down to the bed by the posts with a rope and not let me up until the next morning when my wrists were torn and bloody and my whole body ached with the knowing that I had no ounce of strength left to fight back.
I couldn't tell anyone though. He threatened to do the same thing to my little sister Eliza, who no more then two years old at the time. I couldn't let him take from her what he had stripped from me. I was no longer the happy little girl that I had once been, always smiling, laughing, having a good time. He had taken that emotion from me and slandered it.
I was alone. I didn't have anything anymore. He had taken it all from me; my freedom, my innocence, my trust in people, my love of life, my youth, my vey childhood. But I couldn't let anyone else see that. I had to fake my smiles, fake my laughs, fake my happiness.
I had to whisper it to myself every single night before he came into my room, just to remind myself not to let him see me cry.
"Just Pretend You're Happy."
Dr.Meyers office was bleach white, the kind that made your eyes hurt if you looked at it for too long. You'd think having to sit there at a plain little desk all day in that pale room would kill a person. Turns out their are worst things.
"You could try talking about it", Dr.Meyers glasses were square, they weren't exactly out of style, but they seemed a bit nerdy to me.
I shook my head, balling my knees up to my chest. I bit down on my nail beds, a habit I had had since I could remember.
I sucked in the blood that came pouring out of my thumb.
"Let's talk about your siblings then", Dr. Meyers had a lemon yellow notepad sitting on his lap, one of those clicking pens bobbing against his knee.
I nodded, shaking my long blonde do around my head.
"What's your sisters name?"
"Elizabeth Jane Blake".
I'd recited this a thousand times, a million times by now, but I still needed the warm-up, I wasn't used to talking to anyone about anything, so this was just practice.
I smiled as Dr. Meyers kept tapping the pen on his clipboard. It seemed funny to me that he should have to write down if I said anything worth repeating to the authorities, didn't they think if I wanted to tell them, I would have?
"And your older brother?"
I swallowed a lump in my throat, "Cody Daniel Blake".
Dr. Meyers sighed, "You're going to have to tell me about it eventually, Violet".
I closed my eyes, I didn't have to say anything. As long as I was sitting there with my mouth shut, all he could do was moan and groan about how I was uncooperative, a complaint I heard all too often from him.
Dr. Meyers reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, a gentile, cold hand.
I jerked back, throwing myself up and into one of the walls near the door.
Dr. Meyers blinked, "You need to tell me about that", he said.
I gritted my teeth, trying to make the images in my head go away that had immediately sprang into my mind.
"Fine", I sat back down on the frigid leather couch.
I took in a slow breath, and waited for the click of Dr. Meyers pen.
"Well, It all began when my mother and father seperated"...
I was eight years old when my dad moved into his own house with his girlfriend and an old high school roommate. I didn't think much of it, my Dad was around just as much as he was before he moved out, which was almost never.
He left me alone with that roommate a lot when he and his girlfriend were at work or partying at night. I knew it wasn't fair, he was supposed to be spending time with me, that's why I went over there every weekend, but theres nothing I could do about it, so I let it go.
I didn't mind being there until one day, one scalding August day when I decided I was going to play with the hose out in the back yard. It was dwindling into the late afternoon when I finally decided to go inside and do something else for the remainder of the day, so I went into my room and started to peel of my wet bathing suit.
That's when I felt his eyes on me, scanning over my little body and looking at me like he was inside a candy store.
"Can I help you?" I asked, feeling awkward and exposed.
He didn't speak, didn't say one word, he just came into my room and started...touching me.
That's how it started. After that he came into my room at night when no one but me was home. I dreaded going there, having to look at him all the time and watch him strip me down and have his way with me until i screeched and screeched for him to leave me alone.
I would pull the covers up over my head at night and pray he didn't come into my room, but he always did.
It got worse. I tried to get him to stop, I even tried to kick him once, but he was too strong for me. He grabbed my by my arms and shook me senseless, slapping me across the face time and time again. He would strap me down to the bed by the posts with a rope and not let me up until the next morning when my wrists were torn and bloody and my whole body ached with the knowing that I had no ounce of strength left to fight back.
I couldn't tell anyone though. He threatened to do the same thing to my little sister Eliza, who no more then two years old at the time. I couldn't let him take from her what he had stripped from me. I was no longer the happy little girl that I had once been, always smiling, laughing, having a good time. He had taken that emotion from me and slandered it.
I was alone. I didn't have anything anymore. He had taken it all from me; my freedom, my innocence, my trust in people, my love of life, my youth, my vey childhood. But I couldn't let anyone else see that. I had to fake my smiles, fake my laughs, fake my happiness.
I had to whisper it to myself every single night before he came into my room, just to remind myself not to let him see me cry.
"Just Pretend You're Happy."
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