The doctors said Annabelle was depressed. They said she had been showing signs for years- however small or unnoticeable. Like how she dyed her hair a couple of months before she died. How she would lock herself in her room for hours, saying she just needed some time alone. Her grades were slipping, she was losing touch with her friends. Apparently, she even broke up with her boyfriend.144Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwS5uwc0jJI
And I knew none of this. To me, she was fine. To me, she was perfect.
We made plans for the future. She was getting scholarships from her dream schools. She was going to major in interior design.
But it was all a lie. A show to get everyone to think she was fine when she was hurting.
Yet it was all so believable. Even looking back, she seemed happy. But now I know she wasn’t.
She was depressed. And she was good at hiding it.
I wish I had the same ability. I still hear my parents' voices at night, traveling through the house, talking about me. About how they’re worried about me. My mother says she’s worried about me. My dad says I need time to recover. My mom says I’ve had time. My dad says I’m improving. They talk about me like I’m not right upstairs.
My dad is right, though, for the record. I’ve been doing better. I have gone to school every day, hard as it is, and I hang out with Hannah, and I even applied for a job.
Now I’m lying in bed listening to them talk about me. At first, they were whispering. Now they’re yelling at each other blaming one another for the way I am. And I’m just lying here in my bed, a single tear falling down my cheeks. I don’t know if I’m crying because they’re talking about me like I’m messed up or because I know that they’re right.
Annabelle’s death ruined me.
I bury my face in my pillow and shut my eyes tight. My head hurts and I feel like I’m overheating, even though my window is open and cold air surrounds me.
I take a deep breath, telling myself I’m alright. I made it through today. In fact, it’s the best day I’ve had since Annabelle died. Not that that’s all that impressive, but still. It’s progress.
I fall asleep within an hour.
The next morning when I wake up, both of my parents are already gone, so I make myself breakfast and get ready quickly, figuring I’ll half to walk. I pull on leggings and a sweatshirt I got at summer camp. I used to think it smelled like the lake, and I’d be hit with nostalgia every time I wore it. Annabelle said that was silly, and I believed her. But I’d still smell it every time it got out of the wash, making sure the smell of summer was still on it.
I dutch braid my hair and put on a white baseball cap. I’m ready to leave when I hear a car horn honk. I look out the window to see Hannah’s Jeep in the driveway.
When I get outside, Hannah smiles at me, “Hi!” She says, “I figured you’d need a ride.”
I smile gratefully. I told her the other day I had to walk to school, but I didn’t really expect her to remember, let alone offer me a ride.
“Thanks,” I say, meaning it entirely. I run inside to grab my backpack and when I get in the car, Hannah motions to the cup holder, where two Starbucks coffees are sitting. “I got you a hot coffee with two shots of mocha and one shot of coconut. That's how you like it, right?” I look at her, surprised.
She obviously saw, as she then adds, “I mean, that’s how you had it when we used to go with… when we used to go before.”
“Thank you. How much was it? I can pay you back.” I take the coffee in my hands and blow in it.
“Don’t worry about it.” Hannah glances at me for a moment before turning her eyes back to the road. “So, what is this I hear about a job?”
I tell her about applying at the cafe, and she listens, occasionally taking her eyes off the road to look at me, smiling. When I’m done talking, Hannah gives me some tips about making coffee (she works at Starbucks) and customers.
We pull into the school parking lot and she stops the car, but we still sit there, talking. Before we get out, she makes me promise to call her after I get a call from the cafe.
It’s only once I’m inside that I realize I’ve been smiling the entire ride.
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I have to admit my mood was dampened when I saw all my friends standing together in a group laughing. Despite the fact that they all abandoned me, I really missed them. Jenna, my ex-bestfriend, is standing next to Mathew, her boyfriend, doubled over laughing at something someone said. Asshe straightens, she meets my eyes for a moment before her gaze continues moving. She doesn’t awknowledge me in any way.
My classes drag by, each hour feeling more like ten. I don’t understand most of what I’m learning, and too many people watch me, per usual, so by lunch, all I want is to get out of the building.
I end up outside, sitting on the grass by the track. It’s nice out here, warm, in that crisp fall way, and the leaves on the trees are just starting to change color.
When I finish eating, I pull my knees to my chest and lay my head on them and soak in the warmth of the sun.
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