BOREDOM has become my worst enemy. I stare out of the window located at the far end of the room, only to be met with a brick wall that hides whatever view is on the other side.
I pay no mind to the knock on the door–probably from one of the nurses dropping off my evening meal. The room is deafeningly silent except for the sound of the second hand tickin
"HOWare you feeling today, Ms. Parker?" Dr. Barnes sits in her usual white loveseat, asking the same question that by now, I'm tired of being asked. It's my second to last day here and my last counseling session. "Same as always." I sigh, slumping into the sofa. I hate having to attend these sessions with a passion but since I'm leaving in a da
IT'sthe wednesday before Thanksgiving and the kitchen is littered with plastic bags containing a plethora of ingredients, one of them being a massive turkey. "Oh, you're up!" My mother smiles in surprise as she walks into the kitchen, holding a stack of aluminum trays.
Istep out of my car, shutting the door behind me, and slowly approach the entrance to the school. It's my first time coming here since the incident and I didn't know how everyone would react to me being back knowing what I tried to do a few weeks ago. Fortunately for me, this isn't some cliché high school movie and the most I get are stares as I
Iinhale the calming scent of salt water as I stand by the pier. School ended about an hour ago and instead of going home I find myself here, watching as the water overlaps in small waves, glistening in the sun. I probably shouldn't be here right now, considering what happened the last time I was at the pier but I needed somewhere to clear my mind and the pier is o
LOOKINGat colleges is hard. Especially when you don't even know what you want to do with your life. Talking with Mr. Williams helped me realize that I should really take back control of my life and start preparing for my future. But that's the thing. How am I supposed to prepare for the future when I don't know what I'm preparing myself for?
THEworst part about losing someone is losing them when you least expect it. It's not every day you have your parents break the news to you that your best friend has committed suicide. It was one of those days where I just had that gut feeling that something was bound to go wrong–and trust me, I’ve had more than one of those days–but never in my life could I have imagined something going this wrong.&
PRETENDINGto be okay, even though I'm clearly not, isn't easy. It also isn't easy being expected to live my life and go back to the way things were before. But, I don't think people seem to realize that for me, nothing is as it was before. It's been three weeks since she's been gone and instead of things getting easier with time everything seems to be getting hard
IT'Sbeen one month and two weeks since her death, and I can feel myself drifting away more and more from reality with each passing day. I feel numb. As if I felt so much during these past few weeks that now, I feel nothing. Some might say that I'm depressed, which by the way is the fourth stage of grieving according to the school's counselor.
LOOKINGat colleges is hard. Especially when you don't even know what you want to do with your life. Talking with Mr. Williams helped me realize that I should really take back control of my life and start preparing for my future. But that's the thing. How am I supposed to prepare for the future when I don't know what I'm preparing myself for?
Iinhale the calming scent of salt water as I stand by the pier. School ended about an hour ago and instead of going home I find myself here, watching as the water overlaps in small waves, glistening in the sun. I probably shouldn't be here right now, considering what happened the last time I was at the pier but I needed somewhere to clear my mind and the pier is o
Istep out of my car, shutting the door behind me, and slowly approach the entrance to the school. It's my first time coming here since the incident and I didn't know how everyone would react to me being back knowing what I tried to do a few weeks ago. Fortunately for me, this isn't some cliché high school movie and the most I get are stares as I
IT'sthe wednesday before Thanksgiving and the kitchen is littered with plastic bags containing a plethora of ingredients, one of them being a massive turkey. "Oh, you're up!" My mother smiles in surprise as she walks into the kitchen, holding a stack of aluminum trays.
"HOWare you feeling today, Ms. Parker?" Dr. Barnes sits in her usual white loveseat, asking the same question that by now, I'm tired of being asked. It's my second to last day here and my last counseling session. "Same as always." I sigh, slumping into the sofa. I hate having to attend these sessions with a passion but since I'm leaving in a da
BOREDOMhas become my worst enemy. I stare out of the window located at the far end of the room, only to be met with a brick wall that hides whatever view is on the other side. I pay no mind to the knock on the door–probably from one of the nurses dropping off my evening meal. The room is deafeningly silent except for the sound of the second hand tickin
Ifeel trapped. Like a fragile, caged animal. It has only been a day since my parents told me that I'd be here for another two week for "help" and I feel like I'm going to go crazy. Which is why I'm here, right? To make sure I'm not crazy? "Alexa?" A nurse peeks her head through the door. "It's time for your session."
ALLI see is darkness.Everything is pitch black and I look around realizing that I'm in water again. I begin to panic until it registers that there is no crushing pain on my chest–no overwhelming feeling of being suffocated because this time, I'm notdrowning. I'm just... here. The
ALLI see is red. The repetitive beeps sound from every angle and I have no idea what it is until my eyes shoot open. A stinging sensation pierces through my eyes as the white light of the room hits me. Once my eyes adjust to the brightness, my head begins to pound as if it's been smashed against pavement. I try moving, but my body is stiff. My eyes trail down my b