Rebirth by Anonymous

I roll over on my bed and turn the lamp off.

I lie in bed, listlessness washing over me.

Another day gone. Another stupid, boring day.

Another day of feeling detached from everyone and not even remotely caring about grades, or any other aspects. I have no thoughts for anything.

Not that I really care.

Middle school is annoying. I want to leave already. I can go to a new school and leave behind all the drama and whatever else I want to. A fresh start.

Funny how I would’ve done anything to stay a few weeks ago.

Anyways, it’s not that I have not friends. It’s that, recently, I felt like they were all drifting away from me. And then there’s my grades slipping.

And that void. It’s always there.

I find those moments of comfort when I’m alone.

No. I don’t.

I hate being alone. It scares me to the core.

But then again, I’m starting to dislike people too.

I knew I should be concerned about all of this. Maybe I kind of am. But I just can’t put forth the energy to change anything.

It doesn’t matter.

I close my eyes and wait for sleep.

My alarm woke me up. I prodded my alarm clock to make it shut up, then rolled back onto the bed and put my arm over my arms. I don’t want to go to school.

But, of course, I have to.

The homeroom period bell rings. I amble into class after all the chattering students.

They’re too loud.

I say hello to my friends and sit down at our usual table, watching them rush their homework for our first period class.

I don’t say anything else.

The bell rings again, and I go to class with my best friend.

I walk through the day in a haze. I can’t focus in class. I attempt to doodle, but even that turns out weird.

Lunch passes with me picking at my unappetizing food. The afternoon classes pass in a blur too. A long and lengthy blur. Never ending blur.

I go home.

I walk through the rain hiding under my umbrella.

This is my life every day.

I know something’s wrong. I know I’m slipping. Something is happening.

Why do I feel this way?

I want to fix it, but then again, I don’t think anyone noticed whatever changes there were, and the last thing I want to do is to bring attention to it.

There’s nothing for them to gain in helping me. And perhaps it would make them think of me differently. Or act weird around me. Or be affected and become sad.

Whatever it is though, I can fix it by myself.

I close my umbrella and turn my face to the sky, letting the rain sprinkle onto my face. It seems as if the rain is caressing my face.

What affection. If only the rain was alive and had a choice for where to fall.

But if that were the case it may never caress me again. Or maybe it would only fall on me.

Time trickles away as if I’m trying to scoop water with my hands. I guess I wouldn’t call it fast. But every time I noticed I’m should do something, by the time I actually start doing it, it’s centuries later and I’ve probably forgotten about it, then remembered it again a few times.

Whatever I do feels fruitless, like there won’t be any outcomes.

Honestly, the void is starting to scare me.

Perhaps I should talk to my friends.

I pull out my phone. I open wechat.

There are 21 unread messages in total. All from 2 group chats.

I click away the messages without reading them.

I open my best friend’s private chat.

The last time we talked was a week ago.

“Sup,” I typed. I deleted that.

“Anything interesting lately?” I tried this and deleted it too.

“I need to talk to you,” but this got cleared too.

“Help.”

I hit the send button.

Immediately, a flood of questions come back. I’m filled with a sense of gratitude, or warmth, or happiness or sadness or melancholy or strength or weakness or gladness or helplessness turning into…? Panic at not knowing where to begin, self-depreciation for even getting sad in the first place. But overwhelming thankfulness because my friend will be here to guide me or even knowing that they’re there just to listen to me is enough.

And my plea of help is answered. And I know my friends are the best friends I will ever have.

up?       

back  

stand  

can      

I

perhaps

And

Featured Image- Marble and waves Courtesy of marbleandwaves.com/portfolio/alcohol-ink-art/