the world is ugly » one shots

Time - tbnrfrags

Quick Preface, a long time ago  I joined a writing competition called Social (before the creator decided to discontinue it) So I had a mini assignment to write a story under 3000 words using the words Light, Broken, Doll, Clock, and Books. So dis was my entry for that thingy, I hope you enjoy :) (for the sake of finding all the words, I'll bold them)~~~~~~

Kirsten Lane was an incredibly broken girl. At only thirteen, she was in a car accident with her parents and her two sisters. The car flew off an overpass, killing her father and her eldest sister, Kennedy. Depression consumed the household and her remaining sister, Kallie, "fell off the deep end." Pills became a necessity to all of them. Her mom was on lexapro for the depression and zoloft for the OCD, Kallie was on paxil for the depression and clozaril for the schizophrenia, and of course Kristen was on zyprexa for the anorexia and klonopin for her bipolar tendencies. Everything they did followed a clock, they all got up around seven, took their first dose of drugs, dragged themselves to work or school at about eight, they all got home about three where they'd take dose two, then they'd all spend approximately five hours in their rooms practicing their respective hobbies or doing homework before eating dinner at eight, taking their third and final dose and going to sleep. But one day, just after Kirsten had turned sixteen, things changed when Kallie snapped. Kirsten went to wake her sister up for work to find two empty orange pill bottles at the floor of her bed and Kallie dangling half off her bed with pale skin and blue lips, cuts dashing across her wrists. Kirsten screamed and ran away, but she kept running. She ran three blocks before even realizing she was running, and for some reason, she continued. The morning light shone through her messy hair and straight into her green eyes, but she didn't care. She enjoyed the burning sensation filling her lungs as they desperately clawed and gasped for air. Instead they were filled with water as she jumped into the canal that was a whole mile from her house. This was Kirsten's first suicide attempt. After Kallie passed and she had tried to leave as well, Kirsten spent most of her time reading up in her room. She never ran out of material, she had four bookshelves lined with books.

Attempt two came later that year in December, five months after Kallie's death. This time the fragile girl tried hanging herself in her closet, but just her luck, termites had infested their house and the beam broke shortly after she kicked the chair. By now, she had given up on just about everything. Her grades dropped to C's and even some D's, and her mother hired me to tutor her. I think she figured that at least one of her children needed to succeed or she'd be a failure. Kirsten was bright, she was even supposed to graduate at seventeen. I remember the first time I went to her house for a tutoring session, she looked like a broken doll. Her dark circles were heavy, her once bright green eyes were now more grey, her hair was really long and desperately wanting a trim, her face had sadness etched into it. I felt bad for leaving after I was done with the math lesson I was going over with her, but what was I supposed to do?

Attempt three came the following fall. Kirsten hitched a ride from me to school that day and I recall her seeming more distant than usual. Over the past year we had grown pretty close, she was still depressed and cautious about keeping her distance, but at least we were friends and we trusted each other. Except for that, everything throughout the day went smoothly; Until I noticed her absence in our sixth hour English class. Of course I went looking, only to find her teetering on the edge of the school's roof, her white dress flapping in the wind. I sprinted up the stairs and somehow managed to clamber up onto the roof a millisecond before she jumped, or tried to jump. I snagged her wrist and rolled her into my arms. She screamed at me, but at least she was alive.

After attempt three, I got her help. I called the best doctor I'd heard about and made sure her prescriptions were adjusted and everything was in balance. Kirsten was finally living like a normal human. High school ended and we moved up to Seattle together. Luckily, we both found jobs quite quickly to pay off our crappy apartment. At least we were happy though. Kirsten regained her healthy glow and her gorgeous green orbs, and even her beautiful, prefect smile. Life was finally good.

Man, how time heals wounds.