XIII

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Collin
~
There are parts of my life that I've learned to block out.

My brain has this ability to completely forget things that I want to forget. Things I need to forget. It works great! Until something triggers a memory and everything comes flooding back.

Depression isn't a superpower.

My therapy session with Dr. Indy brought up a lot of those blocked out memories. Specifically the ones with Kyle.

It makes sense. I met Kyle here. I got close to Kyle, became best friends, because he was depressed too and he understood me.

Those memories are hard for my brain to unlock. They're too painful.

But as I sit here, thinking about Margo and Kyle and how different yet similar it all feels, it comes rushing back.

~
Two Years Ago

My body won't stop shaking.

Ever since they left me here, my body shook with anxiety. These cold walls feel like a cage and my heart feels like it's being squeezed.

A nurse urged me into the "common area"- as they called it, so now i'm shaking on the couch watching Toy Story 3.

I was trying to pay attention to the movie, but this kid beside me couldn't stop fidgeting with everything around him and making short comments about the movie.

"I hate this damn movie," he says grumpily.

I snap my head towards him. "Dude. You can't even hear the movie with all your talking."

He scoffs. "Well good 'cause it fuckin' sucks. Not entertaining,"

"Lot of hatred for a kids movie," I counter.

The boy's golden skin and bright blue eyes do nothing to hide the pain and anger that encompasses his entire body. He looks about my age and his hair is a fluffy brunette afro that's failing to be contained under his hood.

"It deserves it, bro. Trust," I just laugh as he crosses his arms and watches the movie he hates. I'm assuming he's got some bad memories associated with this movie, which I understand.

Or he just hates Woody and Buzz. That I personally do not understand.

I turn to face him. "Want to ditch the movie? I think there's a basketball net outside,"

The boy turns at my offer. "Hell yeah. I'm Kyle by the way."

"Collin," we clap hands and walk off, heading to the courtyard where I saw the basketball net.

Kyle's footsteps are slow and purposeless, a lot like mine. He drags his socks against the floor and looks down with slouched shoulders.

"So..." he says, dragging out his words. "what're you in here for?"

He asks with no concern for how abrupt it is or how little we know each other. I like it. 

"I'm depressed." I mutter.

He pauses and looks at me with a large fake smile and wide humor filled eyes. "Yo, bro... samesies."

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