Hiiiii! I'm back 😀😀
Anyway I was looking at some of my old writing drafts and I decided to publish one of my writing pieces!
If your in the mood to wondering, "Why the hell is this girl depressed?"- read this.
Chapter 2: (Yeah I'm sorry I'm going to have to skip Chapter 1-)
Julie
It's always the last day of the week.
At exactly 10 o'clock on Sunday, Heather bursts through my door, her breaths coming out in short, sharp exhales. She then proceeds to sob on the floor, not caring about how badly her mascara was running or how her black, glossy hair was sticking to her forehead. "Why won't she listen?" She would wail, sobbing louder and harder by the second. "Why can't she understand?"
I would always remain silent, awkwardly standing next to the door and waiting for my chance to run out. "I'll go get you some coffee." I would mutter. Then, I'd grab my car keys and get the hell out of there.
I don't understand how I'm always the person that people lean on for help, considering how unstable I feel. If I imagined myself as a tower, I would be ancient and dusty and as unimportant as could be. My tower would be loosely built and about to fall any second, wavering constantly and breaking off in small pieces. As bricks built onto the already unstable tower, I would eventually crumble to the ground, no longer able to balance all the weight of a thousand, carelessly put bricks. And sometimes, when I stare at the wall with an empty, sinking feeling in my stomach, I feel like my tower has already crumbled and I am already broken.
And that scares me most of all.
Still, every day, I am expressionless as can be. I'm determined not to show my slowly crumbling bricks, I'm determined to be happy and cheerful and giddy. I promised myself that I would help people who somehow believe I can make them feel better when I'm breaking as well, like emotional Heather, who can't stop her tower from shattering every time it threatens to break. And so far, I have kept my promise.
But when I look at Heather's painfully saddening figure, stumbling to the couch, a part of me starts to break faster.
I want to run from pain, from sadness, but I can't.
I want to hide from sorrow, from misery, but I can't.
So I open my car door and sit down, nodding to myself as I start the engine. Then, I take a deep breath.
And then I drive away.
...So uh yeah.
Hope you enjoyed 😭
