Stagnant

Embarrassment

A part of me had always cared what people thought. I had always been conscious of others opinions of me.

What were they saying about me? Do they like my jeans? Is my nail polish colour okay?

Growing up in a small town meant everyone knowing who you are, and most of the time, them knowing all your business. Not a lot was kept secret in my town but if there was a secret then that meant it had been discreet and incredibly hidden so the nosy buggers didn't find out.

Gossip was like oxygen in my town, everyone needed it and spread it. They depended on it and the world would just crumble if there wasn't anything to talk about.

That's probably one of the reasons why I grew up feeling conscious of what was being said about me. You couldn't help it in a small town, always having to watch what you say or do because one wrong move and it will be front page news.

Developing depression after the accident and losing Elliot, my insecurities and consciousness of what other people said about me only grew.

At first I was more than aware of the looks and the stares I received from the people I had grown up knowing, them gossiping and talking about how he could have possibly died. No one knew. My parents and I were the only ones and we kept it that way.

Sympathy and pity was all I knew for a few weeks, everyone talking about how Elliot was too young. The sympathetic smiles and the pats on the arm as if to say 'it's okay hun'.

How is it okay? My brother died.

Then, his death was old news. Everyone moved on. Everyone but me.

I was stuck in the past. I could see everyone else moving forward, moving on while I was held back, glued to the floor and just watching as time went by all around me. I was stuck in my own parallel universe just watching everyone else live while I died.

Depression is a black hole. Like a black hole, depression is invisible, you can't see it but you can feel it. You can feel it, eating away at everything in sight, you can feel the light inside you fading until all that is left is a sink of darkness, negativity and blackness. But it doesn't stop, it keeps eating and sucking everything that's left until finally... you're gone.

But after a while, after the black hole of depression had eaten and sucked all the light and good out of me, I stopped caring. I wasn't conscious of what everyone thought of me and I didn't care what they said.

I had already lost Elliot, nothing else could hurt me. The worst thing had happened to me and I simply did not care about anyone or anything else in this miserable and pitiful world.

With that new mindset came the neon green hair. Half green, half black. Elliot had always joked about me dying my hair his favourite colour but it only took his death for me to do it.

One side was him; bright, colourful, joyful, happy. The other side was me; dark, black, hate, death.

"I don't understand why we're doing this." I say, staring down at his colourful clothing and the pair of headphones he's holding in his hands, one outstretched towards me.

The wind whipped lightly, warmer than it had been in the last few weeks but I still bundled up, hoping to stop the bitterness from nipping at me.

"Because it will be fun!" He grins widely, shaking the headphones in my direction. I take them with a roll of my eyes.

"Isn't it embarrassing?" I stare around at all the other people in this situation, some with smiles and some talking animatedly with their friends.

He shrugs. "Embarrassment is still a feeling but that's not the point of this. We are letting go. We are forgetting all our troubles and problems and thoughts, we are joining in on something that is huge and not caring what anyone thinks. We are being apart of something where we can look back on and think 'wow I did that.' But really, compared to some of the other stuff we've done, this is nothing."