Chp67. "Psychosis"
TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains minor information about depression and suicidal thoughts, which may trigger survivors. If choose to continue, read with caution.
- - -
- - -
"Why did you leave me here to burn? I'm way too young to be this hurt."
- I have questions // Camila Cabello
- - -
MIA;
The light from the moon high up into the dark sky shines upon the trees, bringing shadows into the woods and causing my anxiety to run free and out of control.
Paranoia was my best friend at the moment.
A friend who wouldn't betray you at least. I thought to myself. My blood continued to rush hot throughout my entire body, almost as if in competition with my heart—both wanting to finish an ongoing race with no finish line. I was in deep pain yet somehow dry and fresh out of tears, as if I even expected myself to cry on some more, I had no energy in me. My breathing was uncontrollable from having ran what seemed to me to be forever, though I stopped not too long ago. I figured I was too deep into trees and darkness to be found, at least not that easily, or so I really hoped. I sat down on the floor against a tree and threw my head back with closed eyes.
How many more times am I going to be lied to? How many times do I have to go through something no human deserves to feel? What if I do deserve everything?
Do I deserve this? Is existing even worth it? Should I just end the constant pain? Would anyone even care? Would everything be better off if I was just... gone?
Nothing is left. There'll be peace. I'll have peace.
Voices. Voices in different tones, different places, all over my head. The same voice, my voice. I am aware of the feeling I constantly have to push away, denying it's existence. But it's there, it has always been there. Hidden before though now it's out and crystal clear coming out to play, but the only game it knows it's torture.
I am aware of the feeling of being empty, hopeless, a feeling that can so easily consume someone–that can so easily consume me. I've suffered from depression before, briefly. Feeling useless like a soul taking up space. Simply getting out of bed was a struggle, doing every day activities where I'd rather be in my own solitude . The constant thought of feeling like my existence is just not needed, and how much better things would be if I were to simply disappear without a trace. How could I go on while my own mind has turned against me?
God, depression is a bitch.
Is it crazy to say you live with people your entire life and still manage to not know a single thing about you? Friends, family? Neither knew. It wasn't always like I wanted them to either, it's bad enough to feel like a burden to any living person in your life.
I managed to get out of my depression state by the time I was sixteen. I had both my parents then, but I guess I was just too afraid to speak out on things, things that related towards me. It's as if I was drowning but constantly seeing everyone around me happily breathing, it was the cancer of the soul.
Sadness is not a word you'd want to hear your kid or anyone speak up about, because god knows—somebody opening up about a mental illness and society points the finger claiming 'attention seeking'.
I didn't want anything to get better, I just wanted it to stop getting worse. And at some point it did, and I was happy. After forcing myself to walk into the room of my guidance counselor for half of my sophomore year and force myself to talk about my problems, lie to Drew and Macy saying I used lunch to study for exams when instead I'd spend all of my time crying to one person in that tiny room, going out to do social life activities, I was somewhat happy.
That lasted a year or so, until that one afternoon I had walked home. I'll admit meeting Austin caused much chaos in some ways, but it also helped. Yes, he was much involve and had his own faults and I should hate him. I should fucking hate him. But what I felt for him, and knowing it was much mutual gave me joy. Joy that shined even trough the darkness. Joy that was short lived up until now.
My father's death did something to me, it brought the battle with my brain and myself back into the battlefield—as losing someone should. I was never suicidal, not until now. Not until what I could feel right now. The thought of being six feet under somehow eased my pain.
The torment in my heart has become too much to bare. I wanted to be gone. And to anyone who thinks suicide is selfish—a big fuck you to you. People who have not felt that type of sadness, emptiness, simply do not understand.
Somebody's here.
A sudden sound coming from my left was quick to shoot my eyes back open. My heart raced as I quickly stood up on both my feet, my thoughts now completely interrupted. Is it even worth it to run? I just want everything to be over.
"Fuck," I mumbled hoarsely under my breath feeling my vulnerability come into show. I'd be lying to myself if I said I hadn't thought about giving myself in and ending this once and for all, as Cora wanted. As Riley wanted, as well, everyone else.
But I was a fucking pussy. The noise continued to grow louder and I knew right then they were footsteps in what seemed to be approaching me. This time I began to panic. This was not a teeny horror movie where I go in to check exactly where that noise is coming from. My head was pulsing with pain but I put that aside as I picked me feet up and made my way, running into the pure darkness right away.
That only made things even worse. Whomever had been looking for me appeared to have known I started to run because so did they. I was being chased and I was hopeless. "Stop! Fuck, just stop! Please!" I screeched in pain as I knew they were only inches away. "You win! You win!"
Arms were soon surrounding me as I felt grips against my waist and my arms, "Stop!" I yelled once again in fear, using both my hands to scratch the stranger's face as my feet came into action, kicking the legs. But the grip the person had on me was strong, I squirmed but there was no way in hell of a possible chance of me getting out.
"Hey, hey... it's okay. Baby, it's okay." The person said lowly into my ear, assuring me of their actions. I knew that voice. "Mia, it's me—it's Austin."
"I got you," he spoke again, "Shh, I got you. You're okay." Austin comforted me as my muscles released themselves from the tough tenseness they were locked in. I felt as my body instantly caved into his, Austin catching me instantly.
"I can't," I spoke into existence, my voice breaking in an instant. "I can't do it anymore. I can't do it." My face made contact with his chest, burying myself into him, I sobbed. I sobbed until it turned into faint crying. I knew in that moment I was done for, I couldn't do it anymore and this was me almost giving up.
No, it wasn't almost. It was me actually giving up.
"I can't do it anymore, Austin." I repeated in a catch of fresh air. "I want this to end, I want it to be over." He stayed quiet though, he knew I needed this and it had been long overdue before I just broke all in full. I felt like a porcelain doll that with one crack it just crumbles all into tiny pieces.
"I know," Austin whispered, wrapping me into his body until we both became just one. "I know."
Bringing me into his arms for an embrace, my hands wrapped around him, he continued to comfort me in a way I didn't know I needed to be. He held me for a couple of minutes, hearing me feel my world fall right in between his chest. But Austin remained silent as his hand traveled towards my hair, caressing me until I was much calmer and quiet. We stood in silence for a few more minutes. I felt rather safe in his arms, and I always have because I knew that I was.
"I think—" he soon broke the silence. It was dark, I wasn't able to see much of him until I parted my body from his, waiting for him to continue talking. He was wearing a white tee and I was quick to notice as he had dark stains all over it, even in pitch black I could clearly notice that. I wiped the leftovers of my tears with the back of my hand, focusing on his shirt.
My eyes darted upwards to his face but I could not help but notice he had a cut right on his neck, I had no idea if it was deep but it must have been if blood was all over his shirt. I gasped quickly in notice as my hand reached to touch his neck, not the exact wound but around it instead—he flinched. I couldn't help but have images of Cora racing right in my head. This had to be her, something must have happened. And with thoughts of Cora came my father. I barely had time to process him but I was running out of tears for my sorrows, I did not want to think about him anymore. Not right now anyway, it brought that agonizing pain.
But I didn't know how much Austin knew. Did he know about Cora? About Riley? Did he encounter Cora before finding me? Is that how he has that cut right on his neck? Is she gone?
"Cora." I spoke bluntly. "Do you know?" I questioned along with the many more questions I was dying to ask but had to be patient over. "Austin, how are we going to get out of her—"
"I think," he repeated, interrupting me completely. "I think Riley might be my birth father." He said it into existence, almost unsure and questioning himself. Right there, I could have sworn my heart sunk. And if anyone else was with us and heard those words spill from Austin's mouth, I am sure that same feeling I felt could be felt on them as well. The tension and atmosphere felt unbalanced. Saying I was more so shocked than confused would have been an understatement.
I did not speak. Not because I did not only know what to say but I just couldn't. I could not talk, something was holding me back and was getting me uneasy. I couldn't talk, even after what I believe I just heard.
"I had an encounter with him earlier," he didn't go on to explain but motioned towards his neck instead, "and some things were said..." he shook his head almost in disbelief as he talked out loud, "I thought about it, and tried my best to make things not make sense... but I couldn't, Mia. I just couldn't."
I had no words in me, there was not anything in the entire universe I could say right now. I was sure my expression had said it all. I wanted to comfort him so bad, to say something but it felt like my tongue was cut off directly from my mouth and so I remained in silence.
"I know," he nodded as he began to answer my previous question I had for him. "I know about Cora."
"—I rushed over here but the entire building was empty, only a pool of blood on the floor upstairs. The tires of the car were slashed and I was losing my fucking mind." He laughed almost in a delusional type of way, "I ran into the woods praying that somehow by a miracle you were here, and I—"
Austin did not have finish his sentence. By the time he was almost able to, he was instantly on the ground, knocked out cold. I was having a panic attack. I knew I was having a panic attack. My lack of words were not only from Austin dropping sudden news to me, it was a sign. A sign that I was close to having a panic attack, and I couldn't even identify it.
My pulse unstoppable, I could not receive any air into my lungs. It felt like hands were wrapped around my throat cutting my circulation. It was a mixture of anxiety and fear hitting all in one and as Austin hit the floor in an instant, it had kicked in at full speed. I was unable to move as my vision blurred itself before me, my eyes searching for clues until seeing someone had injected Austin with a needle, bringing him straight unconscious. I wanted to speak. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I feel like I am dying, like I am going crazy. Perhaps I was.
The person was wearing all black and camouflaged itself into the darkness, with my current condition I was not sure I could make out anything from what gender the person was, it was hard to see. I could not move though and it came with a price. As I saw Austin get dragged away by the person, I felt as arms tied themselves around my own, grabbing me as if I was a patient from a mental institution trying to escape and also dragging me away.
A sharp pain on my right arm as I knew then, I was injected with a similar needle as Austin had been. Before my eyes could completely shut close, sight of a dead-like motionless Austin being dragged in the same direction I was being dragged to appeared before me.
- - -
Surprised yet?
.
.
Although this chapter does not go into detail in regards to depression, suicidal thoughts, it's best to have a trigger warning. Also, if you know anyone with depression going through suicidal thoughts please reach out for help, a simple action can save a life.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:
1-800-273-8255
Vote/comment. Xo!