Invisible Struggles

Guilty Best Friend

We sat there. Swinging. Like every other day. My scars had healed over. I was 14 in a week. My birthday is 16th of April. Self-harm, depression and suicide awareness day. (The semi-colon is the symbol, representing the sentence that is a life needing to be written.) We sat there talking, today was Marco’s day to talk about his life. He told me that we were just the same, that he had the same problems only…he didn’t cut. He took pills.  I had never known.

There was a lot of hugging, as our hair was swept away on the evening salt breeze of Portland. He told me all about drugs and their affects, I was truly worried for him. I didn’t know what to say.

Apparently his dad smoked and went to prison for a while on suspected murder but it wasn’t actually him, whilst he was in prison the brain tumour was developing without medical help and a month after he got after prison he passed away. His life was cut short for no reason.

We walked on slowly down the docks and looked over the horizon, skimming rocks as we went; paddling occasionally in the water that overlapped Chisel Beach. Looking out over the horizon, silhouetted boats sailing in the distance.

Eventually we walked back and I went home to a house of misery. Marbles circled round my ankles and I smiled down at her slightly, she was skin and bone and a little bit of fur. We’d had him since I was little. The only thing that really kept me slightly smiling at home. Suddenly a rugby ball had his me in the chest, courtesy of Toby, April was crying because she had trapped her fingers in the door, Mum was burning food and Dad was storming over to hit me because it was after hours.

Isn’t life amazing?

The next day I woke up to rain. Lots and lots of rain. I wasn’t allowed to go to school yet because the counsellor said I was too unstable and apparently Marco had a temperature. April had gone to her SAT’s party and Toby was… Enjoying his first year of secondary?

I slumped down stairs and took one of those anti-depressants and some Paracetamol tablets. I felt like crap. I sigh and look around, no one was here. I notice mum was sitting in the front room though, crying or something, then I realised, no one had gone anywhere. It was just silent. I walk in wandering why I hadn’t been called to this “family meeting” only to see the shrivelled dead body of Marbles. My sweet, sweet cat I had raised from a kitten. The cat I never had time for anymore because my whole life had taken my hostage. The cat that had noticed my every emotion when I had first started becoming depressed. Now she was no more. Have you ever owned a pet that felt more human than those around you? That they actually understood in that weird animal telepathic way? That was Marbles.

I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. Grabbed the key on the top of the door frame and locked myself in. This time I cried. I had always prayed to be able to cry. This pain however was just too much. Suddenly my phone was ringing with an unknown number, I pick it up and answer, voices. Voices echoing old nicknames, old names people called me, the horrors people threatened me with. Talking about how Annie moved away because she couldn’t stand to be near a freak like me. The worst things I’d heard. I never wanted to see life again. Ever. That’s when it happened. Blood layered the walls, knives scattered the floors, foods and sick were oozing from my sheets. I guess I should have known it was just an hallucination of some kind. The voices on the phone said I should kill myself. I wanted to. I was backing away from any fake horror I was seeing and chucking my phone down. Leaving a suicide note I’d kept from last year on my bed. I slid down the pipes that hung from the walls next to the bathroom. I think Marco saw me, because he followed me. But I didn’t see anything when I turned round. Just knives and past people I hated and blood and sick.

I saw the main road as my escape route from life. It was busy. I stumbled forwards, working up the courage to just jump. Jump! I dived forwards but then something pushed me back.

“EVA!”

Time froze.

A scream I recognised as my own.

A thud.

Day-terrors ending.

I thumped back onto the pavement, reality, only to see…

Marco. In the middle of the road. Cars stopped and I ran to him, burying my face into his chest. No pulse.

Dead.