Unseen Scars

It's Getting Dark Mommy: Story

     Birds were singing in the trees, the wind gently  carrying their song across the vast blue sky. The sun shone through my window spreading its cheer across the normally dreary room. I slowly rose from my bed and rubbed my eyes. I don't want to get up but, I know I have to. I look around my room, the white poster covered walls, the wood doors, gold painted copper doorknobs, soft tan carpet. It all seems meaningless. Empty, and meaningless.

"Tony, time for breakfast!" My mom yells down the hall.

     I'm not hungry. But I know I need to eat. As I shuffle my way downstairs I pass by several photos of our family trips. All of us feigned happiness in the family photos. There was a loud crash from the kitchen followed by screaming and yelling.

"Well what the fuck do you want me to do, Micheal? I can't pull miracles out of my ass," my mother yelled.

"Just shut up and listen! If you weren't being such a fucking bitch about this then maybe you would understand," he yelled back.

     I walked into the kitchen and they immediately stopped their bickering. The air was thick with tension as I made my breakfast.  I took my plate and a glass of water back to my room. The fighting continued not long after I left the room. I wonder what started it this time?

     I don't go to a public school like everyone else. I'm homeschooled and it gets lonely. I sit in my room for two hours doing school work and on my laptop.

     I put in my headphones to block out the yelling. Going through my lists of playlists I stop and click on the one named Depression. Boy in the bubble begins to make its way into my ear. I lay down and relax, falling into my music. Nothing brings me more comfort than the music I listen to.

     Evening eventually drags it's way up. The stars twinkle and the little sliver of the moon shines it's best upon our wretched world. I go to the bathroom to take a bath then wash up. As I take off my jacket and shirt I run my fingers gently over the scars on my wrist. Some of them are white and puffed out a bit while others are still healing. I gently strip off my jeans revealing fresh cuts on my thighs. I winced in pain as my jeans went over them.

     The bath water was the perfect temperature yet it still burned the wounds on my body. I relax there for a while before washing up and getting out. The house was silent as I crept back to my room. My dad was asleep on the couch and I could hear my mother's finger glide across the keyboard as she typed on her laptop. I entered my room and got dressed for bed, took my medication to help me sleep, then went to bed.

     The days pass and very little changes. My parents fight and I fear they are on the brink of a divorce. School becomes a safe haven from the yelling and screaming. Music helps me work through it. But then there are days, days when I feel nothing. I lay on my bed and try to sleep, but I can't. I put in headphones and attempt to find music, but nothing sounds good. So I lay on the floor and stare numbingly at the ceiling in hopes some motivation arrives.

     This is what depression is. A wave of emotion from out of nowhere. Days arrive where you literally feel like you're drowning. There will be days when you are so sad you don't want to get out if bed. However, when the days come, when you feel nothing at all, those are the days that are the worst. Not because of what's causing it, but instead of how long the day drags by. For some they will think of past memories and want to cry but can't. For others is a long day of boring misery and numbness.

There will be a day when you close your eyes for the last time. Either when you're old, or when you're young. In either case.....it's getting dark mommy.....