chapter 3
334 Words
The days dragged on, and the weight on her chest only grew heavier. Nights became longer, sleep felt impossible. She lay awake, staring at the ceiling, drowning in thoughts she couldn't silence. "Why do I even try?" "Would anyone even care if I was gone?"
The thoughts scared her, but they were familiar. They had been there for a long time, whispering in the back of her mind, waiting for the right moment to take over completely.
One evening, she sat at the dinner table, pushing food around on her plate. Her parents talked about work, about bills, about things that didn’t matter to her. Her sister scrolled through her phone, not even glancing up. She wanted to speak, to say something—anything—but the words felt stuck in her throat.
Her mom sighed. "You barely eat anymore. Are you on some kind of diet?"
Her dad chuckled. "Teenagers and their moods. She’ll snap out of it."
Her sister didn’t say a word.
No one asked if she was okay. No one noticed the pain hiding behind her tired eyes.
That night, she sat on the cold bathroom floor, knees pulled to her chest. The blade sat beside her, an old friend she hated but couldn’t let go of. She wanted to fight, but she was so, so tired.
A message lit up her phone screen.
Sydney: "Hey. You okay? Haven’t seen you smile in a while."
She stared at the words, her vision blurring. Someone had noticed.
Her hands trembled as she typed back.
Me: "I don’t know."
There was a long pause before Sydney replied.
Sydney: "Do you wanna talk?"
She hesitated. She could lie—say she was fine, pretend like she always did. Or she could take the chance.
Her heart pounded as she typed.
Me: "I think I need help."
For the first time in a long time, she felt something other than numbness. Hope. Maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t as alone as she thought.
- Writer
