Tears

07 » 'happy'

.... { " What is 'happy?' It's the opposite of me, that's what. " }

After I broke down in front of my sister I felt like crap. I felt weak and vulnerable. Usually I would hold it all in and wait until I'm in bed, then I would cry into my pillow. But when Amy arrived I just let down all the walls and barriers I had put up to hide myself and my feelings. I hated crying, it made me feel so bad.

So now here I am at the local drug store, a piece of paper saying the item I'm supposed to buy in one hand and my other hand chewed by my mouth, a nervous habit of mine. Amy told me that I had to start being 'happy', so she sent me here to buy some antidepressants. I don't think I even know what that word meant. What is 'happy?' It's the opposite of me, that's what.

You have to see the brighter things in life Em, she said, life will get better if you stay positive.

I sighed and continued searching the shelves for the medicine. Once I found it I grabbed the packet and stared at the label. The front read Prozac in big bold letters. As I walked towards the register, my eyes stayed glued to the packet. So these were going to help me be more 'happy'?

I've never taken antidepressants before and I was a little anxious. Were there any side effects? Would it even work?

I was snapped out of my thoughts as I bumped into something. I heard a deep chuckle come from in front of me and I lifted my head. My eyes met with familiar dark green ones. "You know, I had to buy a new shirt because of you." He smiled, amusement filling his orbs.

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I really didn't mean to ruin your shirt." I said sheepishly, feeling slightly guilty.

"Hey, don't worry, I was only kidding. My shirt is in good health."

I let out a breath of relief. I noticed he was holding the same brand of medicine my mum uses for her hangovers. "What's the aspirin for?" I asked pointing to the packet.

"Allergies." He answered with a small smile. "What are the antidepressants for?" He asked, his dark green eyes gazed straight into my soul and I suddenly felt afraid. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't just say to him 'I'm just so depressed because my mum's a drug addict and my sister left me alone, and that I'm almost homeless.'

I broke his gaze and looked down at my shoes. "Allergies."

He was silent for a moment. My eyes slowly trailed to his hands, which were resting my his sides. There were tags wrapped around his left wrist, there were at least ten of them, all from the hospital. I tilted my head, confused. Why does he have so many hospital tags? Does he go there often?

I think he noticed me staring at his wrist because he broke the silence by saying, "They're souvenirs from previous visits. I like to be reminded of the lovely nurses that cared for me."

I didn't want to say what he was admitted into the hospital for, whether it was an injury or sickness, I didn't want to come off as rude. So instead I raised an eyebrows to him and said, "Ah, so you're one of those guys who flirt with the young nurses."

He laughed, his voice was deep, smooth and was soothing to my ears. "Yeah, you could say that."

The corners of my mouth twitched into a wide smile. Again, it was very rare for someone to make me smile. Only my sister has ever made me smile. And I guess now Chris was another. For some reason whenever I'm around him, there's a sort of bright aura that surrounds him. He seems so cheerful and looks as though he only sees the fun in things.

Maybe hanging around him could make me 'happy', instead of using the antidepressants.

( What do you think Chris went to the hospital for to get all those tags? Comment your thoughts please! (: )