As time passed by, she continued to write all her worries and doubts into a book she called her 'Depression Book'. She chose this notebook because it was bright and colourful, no one would suspect anything. With the bright yellow emojis stacked on top of each other on the front and back cover, she knew no one would even think that someone would write such things inside.
Story after story, the pain became too familiar to actually see that she was hurting. She knew she was broken beyond repair. Even if she would be happy again, she knew she had changed too much to be the person she was before... All those touch-ups she made to her original self to adapt to her traumatic experiences.
She has always been different from the rest. She wanted to dress fancy everyday; wear make-up; talk to other people who would understand her, old and more mature and wouldn't normally do what all the other kids chose to do... She would stick up for her beliefs even though most people would disagree. The teenage girl knew she was different from all the other students at her school.
She always found it hard to make new friends. She knew a lot of people, and a lot of people knew her, but it didn't seem like anyone actually wanted to go further and become best friends, or sometimes even friends... she would hang out with her cousin at break time, feeling as if she was the only person she could trust.
As the time passed she ended up fighting with her 'best friend', all of this ruining their broken-from-the-start relationship. Things were messy, friends cried that they weren't taking sides but they all knew, behind all those lies, they all stuck up for her--at least did at the start. Days went by and she was left alone... She kept to herself, retreating into her shell, deep inside her heart, struggling to find the key to lock it.
Her thousand dollar smile faded, each day getting duller by the hour. The greyish tones overtaking the brilliant shine of the bright colours surrounding her... Blue eyes still sparkling in the afternoon sun, but it wasn't like before, dulled down and barely visible. The pain was taking over, faster than she believed it would happen...
YOU ARE READING
Finding Yourself Again
Short StoryIn this book, I'm writing about a teenage girl. At the age of 9, she had moved to another continent and lost all contect with her former friends.
