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The intertwined emotional and physical depths of a fragile mind. |
She had only just got up and the sinking feeling had returned inside her weak frame. It pressed down on her shoulders, the pit of her stomach, her chest. Lethargically she stood up and disappointedly looked in the mirror at the same person she had seen before she’d gone to bed. Subconsciously she cursed herself. Her mind preoccupied, her eyes glazed with thought, she slunk downstairs, following the monotonous routine of readying herself for college. Her mother hurries around her, but she’s in her own world, she can only move at her own pace. Slipping into her lesson, unnoticed, she lay her head in her hands and listened to lectures on exams, university, careers. But she’s unfazed, they’re part of a future she can never see happening. She’ll never feel safe in a world where time and time again she has failed. Her days consist only of college, absent-minded friendships and attempts to sleep. The simplicity of her routine is a deep contrast to the swirling mixture of emotions over-riding her otherwise vacant mind. A mind filled with confusion, envy, admiration and uselessness. Being around others, seeing their strength, how they can cope, only intensifies her inadequacy, the beauty and character of the different people around her emphasizing how different she feels. She’ll leave the lessons when she can, wonder around the empty corridors, slowly falling further and further into the deep mist of uncertainty that clouds her vision. Trust is not something she frequency holds in people; she needs safety and control of who comes in. She doesn’t want to get hurt more, everything is in disarray, and she can no longer keep up. There is only one person she had ever let in. A few months ago now they found her crumpled in the corner of the building, the delicate sobs still managing to shake her whole body. She never lets herself cry, just buries it further, so this was unusual. Alex helped her, sat next to her and sheltered her. She tried to comfort the tiny figure. Alex is interesting, fun, and understanding, an overwhelming light flickers in her eyes, a light suggesting an unfaltering confidence so unfamiliar to that of her own. She couldn’t understand why someone she has always looked up to, felt an overpowering envy for, was here, next to her. She and Alex spoke every so often. She told her a few things. She could only scratch the surface though, Alex had her own friends, and she couldn’t imagine her really considering her thoughts. She can’t imagine anyone caring for her. When she saw her she would make her best effort to smile, feeling those pangs of envy shattering her from the inside out, but Alex wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t even see she was there. She told herself she was ignorant to have ever taken support from someone who didn’t care. Her own harsh words and this confirmation of her beliefs push her down further. Her deep sense of failure caused by constant failed attempts to help people. To try and make life better, to end their pain. Her life falls apart around her and she tries to pick up the pieces, but she can never reach. The roots of her unhappiness have become so intertwined over the years, that they’ve become inexplicable even to her Every day she walks those halls and everyday she becomes more and more invisible, more and more lifeless. Her presence is ghost like; even she can see that now. She has had a yearning deep down to be one of those people with interesting stories, experiences, and whose comments where instantly listened to and marvelled upon by those around her She’d love to have ambition, or at least some sort of goal she could fulfil. She wishes she was like Alex, but Alex and her don’t talk anymore, she barely looks at her, history once again. Alex has become her idol, the real-life depiction of the person she will never be. Her existence goes unnoticed. All she has ever wanted is to be shelter beneath someone’s wing, be looked after. Someone to hold her fragile frame and tell her that she will be all right, that they will look after her, protect her. Everything has hurt so much for so long that she wonders how long she’ll be here for. She doesn’t know what happens after life, but it must be better than this. At home in her room, the pain becomes so overwhelming that her senses leave her and she succumbs to numbness. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she’s walking through the streets of London. A deep fog has settled over the area, she can’t see but her legs know where they are taking her. Slowly but surely she reaches the bridge. Her frail, tired figure clinging to the steel railing, she’s just staring at the water rushing below her moon-like eyes. It’s bitterly cold and the thin white cotton dress clings to her fragile frame. The billowing fabric blending her into the fog so she is hardly visible as she climbs over the bars and places her bare feet on the other side. She can’t feel it, but her whole body has become white, her body finally mirroring the ghostly state of her emotional being. Delicately she removes her hands from the bars. Her body starts to collapse into the fog below. But there is a firm grip on her hand, and she realises that this perfect ending has been paused. She hangs, her limp body drifting in the cloud of fog above the icy water. Everything seems as though it’s in slow motion. Then a soft voice echoes through the grey. ‘You don’t have to hurt anymore. I’m here. I’m catching you whenever you fall.’ And there it was, the bright flickering light she always hoped for. |