You

• Katelyn Robins, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2017

She took a deep breath as her shoulders shuddered slightly. Watching her back, you thought she was laughing silently, but you knew her face held more. Her face held the pain of past heart breaks. It held in so many screams and cries for help. You knew if she let one out, it would only fall on deaf ears.

That’s why she pretended, why she would only let people see her back. She feared the torment that would ensue if she showed her face. Her broken, worn away face.

She looked at you with a steady gaze, though you observed a few tears slipping past the invisible walls in her eyes. "Why won't you listen? Why won't you help me?"

She leaned back, falling off the crumbling brick wall and into a seemingly endless abyss. You followed her into the abyss, crying out her name, screaming for her to take your hand and as the vast blackness approached, you shielded your face with your arm, still reaching towards her.

Before you could hit the ground, you woke up. Safe in your bed, in your room, in your house. Only this time, something was different, you felt cold and sad. You realised that Anxiety was getting worse. She, herself, was turning to depression as you were.

Sitting up, you pushed the faded blue sheets to the end of your bed and slowly shook your head as if the action would do something to ward away the ghosts from the dream. The dream had been plaguing you for weeks.

You look to your left at the glowing numbers on the small digital clock. 5:30am.
‘Damn’ , you thought, heaving yourself out of the small, wooden bed. Grumbling softly, you dragged your feet across the bedroom floor as you approached the dimly lit, wooden bathroom door, towel in hand. Opening the door, you flung the towel over it and stood in front of the sink. Looking in the mirror, you noticed dark circles under your eyes, an ever present reminder of your dream and its effects.

Sighing faintly, you turned on the sink tap and splashed your face with a handful of cold water. You looked yourself in the eye and attempted to smile. For a minute, the smile looked genuine before it started to drop and turn into a frown. Closing your eyes, you sighed again. ‘This is going to be a horrible day.’

Taking a deep breathe, you opened your eyes and went about your morning almost as if you were on autopilot.

“Hey, kid.”, you lifted your head up from your work keyboard and noticed one of your co-workers snapping his fingers.

“Oh, uh, sorry, Mac. I was thinking about stuff.” You scratched the back of your neck, nervously. He sighed before smiling and patting your head, affectionately.

“No worries, kiddo, why don’t you take a break for a while, huh?”

You nodded, standing up and stretching. Mac grinned with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Who were you thinking about?” He wiggled his eyebrows, suggestively.

You groaned, covering your face and muttering, “Please, not this again.”

Mac laughed and bumped your shoulder with his. You found yourself chuckling along with him.
‘Don’t laugh, he might think it’s bad. Stop it.’ “Tell me about her.” Mac’s voice overlapped Anxiety’s soft, hesitant one.

“She’s like a black hole, she draws people to her with even meaning to. She’s safety and danger all in one, she’s amazing and crazy. She told me once, she never wanted any attention, but she always seemed to attract it. She is my best friend and my worst enemy.” You stopped, knowing by the look on Mac’s face, if you said anymore, he’d would figure out it wasn’t just a friend you were talking about.

‘He'll send you away to some place for crazy people, he’ll lock you up if you keep talking. Stop.’, Anxiety’s wavering voice penetrated your thoughts.

“Well, let her know I said, ‘The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself.’” Mac grinned again, patting your shoulder before walking to his cubicle.

“Uh, will do, I guess?” Your voice faltered as you sat down and faced your computer. ‘He’s nice…’ Anxiety’s soft voice seeped into your thoughts. However, this time, it filled you with determination instead of sorrow.

For the first time in three years, you genuinely smiled.