Believe

Chapter 2

Tempest managed to sleep for hours, not even stirring as dreams and nightmares played tag in her head.

When she finally managed to pry her eyes open, the sun had risen high in the sky, a few rays sneaking through the almost black clouds.

Tempest laid in bed, hate for sleeping so long stirring in her heart. However, she could not force herself to leave, no matter what she called herself.

Hot tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes and she furiously blinked them away. She hated herself. She couldn't even leave her bed! What was wrong with her? Her limbs felt like they had been filled with lead. They were so heavy. So very, very heavy.

Tears fell faster as she watched the minutes tick by. She rolled away in anger.

"Come on!" she growled at herself." Get out of bed!" Finally, she gave up, and stared at the ceiling in defeat. Just yesterday, she couldn't stay in bed and now she can't leave.

Eventually, Tempest drifted back to sleep, unable to keep her eyes open. And once again, the dreams took over.
**********
I scratched the date in the corner and started writing with blue ink in a pale blue notebook.

I have something to confess. I've really been struggling, especially this last week with depression. I was diagnosed with depression in August, about two weeks before school started. I can't even describe in words how hard it is, from not eating to barely sleeping to fighting to get out of bed and go to school. I love how strong you all think I am, but I don't see it in myself. I'm so sorry, you guys. I'm trying to be strong and get better, but I just had an awful week , and I'm losing hope that I'm going to get better. I'm scared, and my faith is wavering and I am ashamed that I'm struggling so much. This is all I can manage, but please pray for me, because I'm losing hope.

Tears dripped down my face as I wrote, confessing things I hadn't even admitted to myself.  I wrote half a page before stopping, overcome with grief. I couldn't write anymore.

The dream shifted.

I walked through the nearly deserted halls of the school, heading towards the gym where I knew I would find my science teacher.

I felt so guilty about missing so much school this past week, and I knew I had to confess to him what was going on. After all, every other teacher I had spoken to was so understanding and compassionate, so why wouldn't he be?

I stepped through the doors when a female Phys Ed teacher stopped me.

"Where are you going?" she asked harshly. I frowned at her tone, glad she wasn't my Phys Ed teacher.

"I need to talk to my science teacher about something." She let me through and I headed towards him.

"I'm sorry that I've missed so much school. I have depression, and it's been a really hard week."

"I don't know what that's like, but we want you to be in class."

I stared into his green eyes and my heart sank as he continued to talk about an up coming test. He doesn't understand.

My eyes burned as I left, desperate to escape. I joined my friends outside, the cold stinging my tear filled eyes. As their ride arrived, I left, barely able to hold back the tears.

I crawled into the seat next to my mom and I let the tears fall.

"He doesn't understand," I sobbed. "He doesn't understand!" My mom held my hand and drove home as I cried because one of the few people I desperately needed to understand did not.
*********
Tempest awoke slowly, eyes rimmed with red and anger, and was finally able to drag herself from bed. Not bothering to change, she swept her book off her nightstand and pulled on a sweater.

She left the cabin and climbed atop her cliff and opened her book. She lost herself in the make believe world, forgetting everything for a short time.

The waves crashed against the cliff as Tempest laid down on her stomach and rested her head on her arms, watching the dark turquoise waves splash ferociously against the dark, weathered grey rock that had seen many years of abuse by the constantly swirling ocean.

She just laid there, thinking as she watched the ocean. Her thoughts bounced around from event to event. One thing she always came back to was a thought about a boy.

There had been a guy she had liked for a time, but sadly they had grown apart as life pulled them in different directions. However, she was afraid of liking another guy. After all, what guy would want her; the broken, pathetic, weak girl who couldn't control her own emotions and who was weary to trust guys? Plus, she didn't see herself as pretty enough to attract a guy.

She looked back at the ocean again. She wanted to believe that she wasn't broken, and that she would get better, but she was losing hope. The sun rarely shone and she was living under a dark cloud of loneliness and despair. What guy would want to deal with all that?

Tempest rose with a sigh, scooping up the book she had finished reading and headed back towards the cabin.

Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. She didn't feel hungry, so she wouldn't eat tonight.

She placed the novel back on the shelf and selected another one. She scanned the back, making sure her fragile mind could handle the story. After reading a book that had brought her depression to the surface, she had to be extremely cautious on what she read and watched. The smallest thing could set her off.

Cradling the book in her hands, she settled herself on the couch and attempted to lose herself within the pages. However, she couldn't concentrate on the story. Sighing, she placed the book down and kicked her legs over the arm of the couch. She rested the book on her stomach and closed her eyes.

She was so tired of being alone, of being sad, of struggling with everything. She was tired of the anger, of the hate and the embarrassment that she faced every time the tears welled in her eyes. She was exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally. She just wanted it to end.

Tempest placed the book on the couch and left the room, heading towards her bedroom. She laid down and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come swiftly.
*************
The test paper shook in my hand as I took in my test mark. A 78? A 78 in math, a subject I usually excelled at? I blinked away tears as I shielded the mark with my hand, ashamed. I couldn't let my friends see this.

I stood up and handed the test back in, avoiding my teacher's gaze. This was not okay. I never had a mark below an 85- oh, who was I kidding? I rarely had anything below a 90. How did this happen? I thought I had known what I was doing! I wasn't expecting a 100 or anything, but I had been confident I could get a 90.

As I walked back to my desk, gaze cast towards the floor and carefully avoiding my friend's questioning looks, I tried to focus on today. However, my confidence in myself was shaken, and I knew that it would take time to regain that stolen confidence.

Again, the dream shifted to another scene.

I pressed my lips together as I leafed through the science test. I had done alright until I reached the last section. A big, fat, red zero stared up from the page, mocking me. I quickly turned away before anyone saw.

Slowly, I pulled out my calculator and braced myself for the percentage. I stopped just before I punched in the numbers. Did I really want to do this to myself? Destroy the fragile confidence I still had left in myself?

I sighed and punched in the numbers. I hit enter and my heart leaped into my throat. I let out in shaky breath laced with tears. A 56? I had only been 7 percent away from failing? My confidence in myself shattered into a million pieces that I wasn't sure I could put back together.

These test marks shook me so deeply because I was seen by myself and others as someone who got incredible grades. Every year, I was told not to expect high 90's from myself, but every year I proved them wrong. I knew what I was capable of. I knew I could achieve these high marks despite everything, but now I was afraid.

What if I wasn't who I thought I was; who everyone thought I was? What if these marks were my true colours finally being revealed? What if everything I had worked so hard to achieve was just a fluke? I was afraid to write anymore tests because I didn't want to break myself further then I was already. Am I still who I think I am? Or am I merely a shattered shell of my former self?