They Call It Depression {edited}

Chapter Twelve

"Goodbye, Mom," I say, hugging my mother. I'm leaving St. Louis today; Nathan and I are going back to Maine to get ready for the wedding.

"Bye, sweetie. I'm so glad you were able to come and visit," she says.

"So am I." I release her and walk over to my dad. Then we embrace and I say, "I'll miss you, Dad."

"I'll miss you too, baby girl. But I'll see you in five days, remember?"

"Right." The wedding is in five days.

Nathan and I leave and start the long drive back to Maine. It'll be over ten hours. I'd better get some sleep before it's my turn to drive!

- - -

Five hours later, Nathan shakes me awake.

"Hm?" I ask, confused. I look around and see that we're in the parking lot of McDonald's.

"Want some dinner? I'm kinda hungry, and I thought we should stop now before we get back on the road."

"Oh. Sure," I reply, unbuckling my seatbelt.

We go inside to order our food. I hate this place. Not only is the food greasy and unhealthy, but it reminds me of the many hangovers I had as a teenager.

I look at the menu, trying to find something that doesn't have a pound of grease in it. "Um, I'll have a salad," I tell Nathan.

He orders a Big Mac and fries for himself, and gets my salad. Then we get our drinks-Dr. Pepper for me-and sit down at a table for two.

"Bon appetite," Nathan says, and takes a big bite out of his burger.

I get some lettuce on my fork and eat it slowly. The memories are starting to come back.

- - -

I couldn't get back into a steady relationship. No one wanted to stay with me, so I just went to parties on the weekend and hooked up with whoever was willing.

My life was out of control. I was drinking, partying, and hooking up on the weekends; and on the weekdays, I'd slack on my homework and make more bloody scars on my arms. It was terrible. I was so depressed.

My only true friend was Cassie, but even she was just kind of "there." I was alone in the world, with nothing but alcohol and sex to sustain me.

Then I met Clara Thurston, a 68-year-old woman with arthritis and a whole lot of compassion.

I was at Starbucks. It was November 13, 2010. I'd never had Starbucks before, but I'd been wanting to try it for a long time. Today was my day.

I ordered a basic iced coffee, and sat down at a table in the back. I glanced around the room at all the different customers. They lived happy, care-free lives, it seemed. Smiles were plastered on their faces. They were laughing and talking with friends. I wanted to be like them. But I knew that I couldn't.

That's when my eye caught an elderly woman sitting in the corner booth. She was all alone, just sitting there, staring off into space. Her expression was unreadable; it was neither happy or sad. She was interesting in a way I'd never thought an old lady could be interesting.

I don't know what was going on inside my brain, but I wanted to talk to that woman. Or at least introduce myself.

Slowly but surely, I got out of my seat and walked towards her. "Um, hi," I said. "I know you don't know me, but I saw you from across the room and you just looked like you could use some company..." I was rambling; I knew that I was, but I couldn't stop.

The woman chuckled and said, "Aren't you a sweet girl. Come on, sit down."

So I slid into the seat across from her and folded my hands. I didn't say anything.

"You look like you've got a story to tell," the lady said.

I looked up at her face. She had blue eyes and her hair was graying, but there was something about her that made her look young and intriguing.

"What's your name?" she asked.

I cleared my throat before answering. "Mackenzie."

"Tell me, Mackenzie, if God could do a miracle in your life, what would it be?"

- - -
A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Leave your answer to Clara's question in the comments!😊