dear anna

"Uh, if you don't mind me asking..." Aaron started, "how'd it happen?"

His fiery orange-hazel eyes seemed to spark towards Kai, whose glacial light blue eyes scanned the floor of the room.

"I don't want it to be a burden for you," Kai replied humbly.

***

The sound of the church bells rung, then seemed to dissipate through the gray sky which was littered with dark clouds. One could almost smell the looming rain hovering above the bustle of the small town.  Aaron proceeded to walk to the door.

"Hope you feel better, bro." His words contributed to the heavy air.  "Text me, alright?" Aaron said, rubbing his hand on his own forehead and then running his fingers through his thick, seemingly shaggy, strawberry blonde hair.  "Mhm," Kai replied quietly as Aaron walked out of his room, followed by the audible sound of his front door shutting.

Kai sat back on his antiquated gray bed, looking down at his faded blue jeans.  His soft, black hair fell in front of his eye, and suddenly, a tear rode down his cheek.  Awestruck, he lifted his head up, followed by his hand, so he could touch his tear.  As the droplet sat on his pale, skeletal finger, he stared at it.

"Crying?" he heard his deep voice ask himself aloud. 

The more he thought about it, the more he came to terms with his depression.  He seemed to notice his symptomatic behavior, so it was only a matter of time before he realized it.  He always felt tired, sad, and lonely; even Aaron noticed it, and that's why he had came over.

Kai thought for a moment, then almost rashly, he searched frantically for a paper and pen, then impulsively started writing.

"Dear Anna," he whispered to himself.

During the process of writing the letter, he often crossed out things he misspelled or things he didn't really mean to say.  He wasn't especially good with words, after all.

"Finished," the words he spoke seemed to break the cycle of pen scratches and shuffled paper. He swallowed his saliva nervously, looking at the wet spots from his tears on the letter.  He was surprised to see how much he cried as he tried to materialize his feelings on this sheet of paper.

"I don't understand why this is happening," he spoke slowly to himself, scratching his head almost instinctively.

One would describe the way he processed his emotions almost childlike; he seemed to have a looming confusion towards his emotions.   "No, just... stop crying," he told himself as he left the paper on the table, and then stood up.

He began hearing himself sob and weep, and he even felt the lump in his throat and felt an aching pain in his chest. He rushed to the bathroom and looked up slowly to see himself in the mirror, though he wasn't pleased by the sight.  As he reached for the mirror, all things rushed into his head.  He pulled open the mirror, only to see shelves behind it filled with basic necessities.  He eyed a bottle of pills that was given to him as an antidepressant.

Reluctantly, he reached for them, but was interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing.  He flinched in surprise, then took his phone out of his pocket, and looked at the caller ID.

It was Anna.