kritanta

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large bouts of thunder roared outside her small, one bedroom apartment. her bedroom window creaked rhythmically, lonesome and depressing. she sat on the floor (of her not carpeted bedroom, thank you very much), back flush against the frame of her bed, well, if you could call it a bed. rickety, creaky and probably would break if she jumped on it. she had a bottle of gin in her hand, and tears in her eyes, her face flushed, eyes puffy, nose red and lips puffy. she looked like an outright mess and she knew it, yet made no effort to change her appearance at all—she was home alone, for god's sake! she stared at the window in her bedroom, as its glass frame swayed, capturing her, hypnotising her.

coughing, she patted the floor around her to find her phone. the poor girl started to panic as she felt her pockets and didn't find her phone. frantically searching, she spotted it laying a few feet away from her. sighing in relief, and thanking the lords above, she grabbed it and retook her place at the very edge of the bed. now where the hell was that bottle of gin? rolling her eyes in frustration, she grunted in disbelief when she found the bottle on her desk. muttering a few curses, she sat back down, crossed legged, but this time, on the bed. huffing in absolute annoyance, she switched on her phone and scrolled through her social media.

she didn't consider herself famous, even though she technically was, seeing as her youtube channel had over 10 million subscribers. she saw her mentions pop up on twitter, (it was supposed to be her birthday, but here she was, post mental breakdown, in bed, with a bottle of gin) and decided to go through them.

@username: @kritantaaaaa ily happy birthday

@username1: @ kritantaaaaa lmao im sorry its raining on your birthday but have fun!

have fun, she thought, that's a funny one.

as a child, she had never imagined herself to be like this. sad, lonely, and pretending to be someone that she wasn't to appeal to people, and make them laugh. she never thought of herself to be a people pleaser, a person who sacrifices her sanity, her happiness and her identity, for other people's entertainment. her younger self would laugh at her now, for she was almost at the verge of breaking down, yet again. kritanta, her name, meant the goddess of death. she had never been happy, like she was supposed to be. she had never talked to people, like she was supposed to. she had never seen herself as a person, as a normal person would. she saw herself as the doom-bringer. the destroyer of happiness and joy. the absolute worst daughter anyone could have. maybe that's why her dad didn't look at her when he talked to her. maybe that's why her mother would call her filth, disgusting and a failure. and she was, in her eyes, a failure. someone who didn't have the courage to be who she wanted to, someone who couldn't live her own truth. someone not worth living. someone not worth loving. at this point, she had started to cry again. she could cry easily, but also held up a great act in front of people who insulted her, for she, was a great actress and a great liar, obviously not something that she proudly admits to. but, being born in a conservative family, where almost anything new was not allowed, she had to lie her way through life.

she hated herself, more than she had wanted to ever admit, but she did. she hated waking up every morning and looking at herself. she hated the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, she hated the way she thought about herself and she hated the fact that she was alive.

kritanta, from a young age had learnt that no one wanted her around. she knew at the tender age of 7 that no one wanted to play with her, because their mommies used to tell them not to. she knew that her parents fought after bed time, almost every day, because of her. she knew that her father committed suicide because he couldn't bear to see his child fall into a deep pit of depression and unhappiness himself.

she remembers every. single. detail.

she hates that she remembers. so, on days like these, when memories that had been buried deep under resurface, she wishes to forget. forgetting temporarily would also work. hence, the gin. alcohol helped numb her. it helped her forget everything bad that had ever happened to her. She usually didn't like getting shitfaced, because she would make bad decisions when intoxicated. For example, the one time she thought that falling off a 19 storey building would be exiting., and fun. fortunately for her, she did not die, but she did crush an old lady with her body weight.

giggling silently to herself at the memory, she shook her head at her past self. giddily, she searched for her journal. she was shivering with excitement as she flipped through its worn out pages. she had maintained the same journal since she was 12. 10 years was a sure long time to have the same journal for, but she found it an accomplishment. her small, black, leather bound journal had probably been the only thing that she had been consistent with. at the very end of the journal, was her bucket list. ashe had quite an ordinary one, just like every other teenager.

Skydiving, her 18th birthday.

Clubbing, her friend's birthday

Rafting, summer camp when she was 19

Travel all over the world, she had her own world tour

Suicide.

she smiled stupidly at the last one. tracing her finger over the horrifying word, she decided that today was going to be her last day on this earth. she had had twenty two years too many on this earth. slowly, grinning maniacally, she reached for her bottle of gin. taking two long swigs, she started to think about how she would end her life. the possibilities were endless. she could drown herself, she could shoot herself, she could jump off her balcony, she could hang herself, it was all too much for her devious little brain to handle. she was on the verge of tears, for the fifth time today, and she was sick of it. she wanted to die, right now, right at this second. she felt like she couldn't breathe, her lungs felt as if they were on fire. she had no idea of what was happening around her, she was filled to the brim with panic, sadness and a shit ton of anxiety. she couldn't do this. she just couldn't. so many people looked up to her, and she would let them down, she couldn't do that. the only thing she feared more than someone finding out about her family was letting someone down, for that is what her parents and peers told her whenever she did anything wrong. kritanta, you've let me down. her life was ruled by fear, by sadness, by anxiety and by her depression. she never spoke out about her mental health and the issues she had, for she had always feared that she would get ridiculed. she didn't understand why she just couldn't be happy. she just wanted to be normal, to be loved, to be happy.

but, alas, you don't always get what you want.