Trigger Warning: Depression and Suicide Implications Disclaimer:
This is purely a narrative text to bring light to the current emotions of teens and the adults who are put in charge of their care once they go to school. This is no indication of my personal feelings and should not be taken as such. This was based on a writing prompt to help me write about different views of the world.
Genre: Drama
Have you ever felt on the outside of everything, felt lonely even if you're surrounded by people, and lost all sense of yourself as if you are some hollow shell of what you once were? Trying to talk about these feelings is one of the hardest things you can ever do. So here I am.
I was a shadow, a speck of dust floating in the wind. Invisible to those who I thought were my friends. Invisible to those I had once trusted my life with. Now, it was like I was not even there. To any passerby, they must have seemed like a lost puppy clinging on to anything that gave me the tiniest boost in serotonin. Everything I knew was slowly disappearing from my life and I knew it, but I didn't want to acknowledge it. These people knew everything about me, every little scrap of trauma and happiness, all now opposed to me. Were any of them my friend to begin with? Or were they just hoping for some entertainment and it's only coming to light now; like the glass has shattered between us? Cause now I know everything. I heard everything.
Their comments always lingered on my mind; my hair was never perfect, my clothes were always out of trend and my family were 'not right in the head'. And their only response to me trying to stop them was always "Oh, come on. Can't you just take a joke?" 'A joke. As if my life was a joke to them. My family was a joke to them. I could never tell after a while what they meant as a joke or not, but I was always hurt; especially when Alice would join in with them.
Alice… my 'best' friend. I've known her since pre-school, and now she jokes with my bullies, laughing at my life and my upbringing, as if we both didn't go to the same school, live on the same street and constantly be together. She even makes fun of my accent now. They changed her. She used to be like me, but now all she cares about is how they look to her. She started dressing differently too, she looks like a copycat of the girls online, always smothering her face in make-up and even changing her laugh to seem more acceptable to everyone else; she's fake, and I'm getting the brunt of it. It's like she's ashamed she knows me. But I can't do what she did. I can't change myself to what they want. It's not me. But my 'me'? They hate it. They have always made me feel like an outcast and now she's broken through and I'm still stuck looking in from the outside. It was a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.
I did look for people to tell. I could have told anyone; my teacher, the counsellor. But I didn't. I wasn't going to be that person that they'd call a snitch. Maybe even have the adults side with them, saying it's something I must have done; that sure as hell has happened before. I couldn't tell anyone; I had to keep it all in, no one would have believed me. They never have before, why start now? These feelings I've hidden from the world for so long. But that could only go so far, sooner or later it became noticeable to people around. My mum noticed first. I noticed that I lost motivation in everything I had once found enjoyable, and lost my smile and laugh. I even lost my drive to go for a walk. She put this down to me being a teenager of course, just as everyone does. Just some hormonal teenager who doesn't know hardship; who doesn't know their hardship. Sometimes I wish she had noticed and cared a bit more. Sometimes I wish she had noticed that I never left and left my phone unanswered. That the sun never shone in my room from those days onwards.
After a while, she tried to get me help, but it didn't do anything to help. All it did was have me realise how hopeless everything was. How hopeless I was. How much of a waste of space I was, and how nobody needed to hear what I had to say. I was dismissed, all falling on something that was barely relevant. The therapist was sure they knew what was wrong, that they glossed over my actual problems. After a few sessions of the same, I started skipping them. I didn't hear what they had to say. My mum would drop me off and drive away, they told her it would help me tell my secrets, but as I waved her off I walked away. The park was a quiet place, it was great for people-watching. But then they started to find me. My friends found that I would be in that park, every week, at the same time. They would come and watch from a distance, snickering at each other and occasionally looking over. Sometimes I thought I saw a hint of guilt in Alice, but I don't know. Once my mum came to pick me up, she would always ask how it was, and I would always reply with the same fake smile and a rehearsed "Fine.". But I never was, I could see how happy it made her when I smiled. It was never going to last.
One afternoon I had come from the place of torment and isolation they call 'school' and tried to keep my spirits up. I locked myself away in this very room, watching the sunset from the window, through curtains that had finally been opened in months. I had forgotten about the orange glow that fills the sky and the silhouettes of birds flying across the sky. It was peaceful. I had finally felt something that I hadn't felt in a long while. It's ironic how the only happiness I feel is when everything is going to disappear. It's like a sign, but it was too late. I hope that one day they all regret what they did to me. That my empty chair will be a constant reminder of what happened.
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