LUA || CTH [on hold]

seven / wednesday

"it's not going to be easy. there are going to be bumps along the way, some days will be good, some will be bad. many will be a lot worse than others. but that doesn't mean you stop fighting. always keep fighting, no matter what. that's the whole point of this, to always keep fighting."

they were just words, words that played over and over in calum's mind like a broken record. dr. eckels had said them, months ago, when calum had first started seeing her. he'd never forget their first session. he'd walked up to the therapist's door, clinging onto his mother's arm, shaking, his cheeks still tear-stained from the car ride over. he didn't speak at all that first day, and he kept his eyes trained on the floor. that was a bad day, one of the worst.

the thing about depression is, that unless you've experienced it, you couldn't possibly imagine what it feels like. and even then, everyone's suffering varies. calum liked to compare it to those spinning teacups at carnivals. you know the ones. they move in circles on a big conveyer, and then each section of three or four cups moves in the opposite direction the other, within the bigger movement. and each individual cup then moves in the opposite direction to that of its section. confusing? yeah. sometimes it's slow, sometimes it's incredibly fast and your hat flies off your head and into the crowd, and you're never able to get it back. sometimes someone gives it back.

for calum, most days were slow, with the proverbial teacups still spinning, but at a rate that calum could keep up with. most days were okay. they would never be described as great or good, but they were manageable. and then there were days like today, days where the cups were spinning faster and faster as each moment passed, twisting and spinning and jolting calum out of any sense of comfort he may have possessed.

there was a knock at the door.

"calum? time to wake up!" his sister, mali called. she was a few years older than him, and she'd recently moved back in with her parents. she'd moved away right after she graduated, but once she heard about calum, she moved back. calum hated it. he loved his sister, but he hated that she had to move back home for him. she had made her own life, no need for her little brother to ruin it.

he didn't respond to her, hoping that maybe if she thought he was still asleep, she'd give it up. calum didn't feel like getting out of bed.

she knocked again. harder.

"calum, if you don't wake up now, you're gonna be late for school. mom's already made you some breakfast to-go, come on!"

again, he stayed silent. mali didn't knock again. instead, she opened the door a crack, calum groaned, because he had forgotten to lock it again. if he had known that he was going to wake up in this state, he never would've forgotten. but calum had felt fine last night, and at the time he hadn't seemed to care whether or not someone interrupted him.

"calum, come on. don't be an idiot. you need to get to school, it's only the second week, you can't be skipping out on classes already."

silence.

"calum?" mali called, stepping inside the room. she sounded concerned. calum kept pretending to be asleep, still hoping that maybe she would go away. he didn't want to talk to her, for her to see him like this.

he kept his face buried in his pillow, even when he felt her sit down on the bed beside him. she ran her fingers through his hair gently, like she had done when calum was small. she'd always played the role of big sister to the best of her ability, and that just made calum feel even more guilty for being the shitty little brother that he was. mali didn't deserve this. he felt his bottom lip quiver and he urged himself not to cry. he didn't want to cry in front of her, his cheeks were already stained as it was. he didn't want to go to school, he didn't want to get up. he didn't see a point, was there supposed to be one? don't cry. stop crying. she can hear you.

"calum, shh," his sister cooed, "it'll be okay, tell me what's wrong."

calum didn't say anything, he just continued to lie there, face down in his pillow, crying softly into the wet material, while his sister sat beside him and did her best to try and console him. all to no avail. how could he tell her what was wrong when he didn't know? what was wrong? everything. nothing. him. it was him. he was wrong, everything was wrong with him. that's why he was crying, that's why he couldn't stop crying, because of himself. what could he do about that? nothing. nothing. he would cry some more.

"hey. shh, it's okay. hey, calum. look at me. don't cry. i'm sorry. do you want me to go? okay. i'll stay. hey, i love you. it's going to be okay. you're okay."

eventually calum stopped. whether it was because he was okay, or because he lacked the energy to continue, he didn't know. he lifted his head from the tear-soaked pillow and looked at his sister, who had her own tears falling. they were soft and small, and couldn't be heard behind the loud sobs calum had let out. they were there nonetheless. this was the worst part. it wasn't him, he didn't care, him feeling the way that he did was nothing, it was just him, meaningless, something he could deal with. the stuff he did to others, however inadvertently, that was the worst part. whether it was mali crying while she consoled her little brother, or his father staring off into space when the family ate their dinner, or his mother, walking on egg shells around her seventeen year old son in fear that something she may say might set him off and cause him to hurt himself.

calum hated it all. he hated himself.

why? he didn't know. he never had an answer to any of the questions he was repeatedly asked. whenever anyone asked why: why do you hate yourself? why are you sad? why would you say that? why are you crying? why do you feel like that? why? why? why? all he could do was just shrug, mumble a simple, "i don't know." because he didn't. he really didn't know. it was just something that was there, something that he wished wasn't. it was something that he would have to live with. something he would try to fight off, but something he would have to live with. and maybe that shouldn't have been okay. but it was.

"i'm sorry." he managed to choke out.

mali shook her head, wiping the tears away quickly, "no, no don't apoligize. you want to tell me what happened?"

calum shook his head, and mali nodded. and they just sat like that for a while, looking at each other, in silence. that was what calum needed sometimes, silence. it slowed down the cups.

"you don't have to go to school today. i'll tell mom. you know she's going to have to phone dr. eckels, right?" mali asked.

"yeah." he whispered. calum hated seeing dr. eckels when he felt this way, mainly because he hated seeing anyone when he felt this way, because he wanted to be alone. but he knew that being alone was the last thing he needed. and dr. eckels could help, that was what she was there for. she child talk to him. she could help. they were just words. but they meant something, and calum cherished that.

"i love you, little brother, please don't forget that. and mom, and dad. we all do. i bet even your punk friend michael loves you more than he cares to show. you're not alone in this."

thank you, mali, he wanted to say, i love you too. i love mom, and i love dad, and even though i'm angry because i have a crush on his girlfriend, i love michael. but he didn't say any of it, because if he opened his mouth to talk, only choked sobs would escape. safer, if he just kept his mouth shut. so he nodded, and tried to keep the tears from spilling.

ゞ☆ᄿ彡

:( :( :(
for my fellow supernatural fans #alwayskeepfighting
and anyone out there who is going thru shit. you're not alone.