I’m a chameleon. Or at least that’s what it feels like. I’m desperately trying to fit it, be like everyone else. I need to blend in; sticking out is a dangerous thing to do, especially in high school, especially when everyone thinks you have it all together.. Hi, my name is Gwin, short for Guinevere, but no one can know that, because that would be like a giant, ugly blue spot on my carefully curated camouflage. I am part of the popular crowd, not quite in front of all of them, but not quite in the background. I have perfect hair, perfect nails (not too long, not too short), the altogether “perfect” appearance. I don’t do anything I’m not supposed to, but I’m not afraid to have a little fun. My grades are good, but not valedictorian or nerd good. So yeah, overall, I’m just your basic, normal, everyday high school girl… unless you really know me. I have severe depression. You wouldn’t know by looking at me. I look… well, normal. I don’t cut or anything. I’m not anorexic. I just don’t feel like doing anything. I feel like I have no purpose. Yes, I’ve been to therapy, yes I’m on medicine, but just think about how much worse it would be if I didn’t have those things. I’m the girl who smiles and laughs, surrounded by friends, while feeling utterly alone. And no one knows… at least, they didn’t.
The bell rings and a herd of teens piles into the hall— it’s finally the weekend. A group of girls giggles and talks as they make their way to the locker rooms to get ready for basketball practice.
“Sam, you definitely need to come shopping with us after practice today. You have to get a new swimsuit before spring break; you said you were going to the beach, right?” The girls talk about mundane things like shopping and which bikini style is the cutest, but in the midst of all of them, one stays silent, watching, like an outsider who’s on the inside. “Oh, Gwin, didn’t you say you needed one too?”
The girl is drawn back to reality. “What was that, Amy? Oh, yeah. But I can’t go with you guys today, I have uh… stuff to do… at home…”, Amy scoffs.
“Gwin, you always have ‘stuff to do’. It feels like you’re avoiding us.” The other girls murmur in agreement.
“I would never do that, I’ve just been busy recently, can we not talk about it?” Gwin says, growing uncomfortable.
“Fine, we’ll drop it if you agree to come shopping with us and have a sleepover, just like when we were little. Well, maybe not just like it, I doubt we’ll watch cartoons the whole time.” Amy laughs, the other girls joining in. “Please Gwin?”
“Ok, fine, c’mon, get dressed already,” she says, slapping Amy playfully on the butt. “You know Coach hates it when we’re late.”
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After practice, the girls all load up into Amy’s SUV and head to the mall, where they try on different swimsuits and get snacks. After a few hours of walking around the mall and such, they go to Amy’s house. Her parents welcome the girls, her mom setting out snacks, happy to see Amy’s friends. They head upstairs to Amy’s room where they play games for a while and talk, until Amy’s mom reminds them about their game the next day. As Gwin gets ready for bed, she takes her toiletry bag to the bathroom to brush her teeth, but in the process, knocks her antidepressant pills out of her bag. When she returns from the bathroom, all the girls stop talking and stare at her. She awkwardly sets her bag down and sits on the bed, confused as to why they are all staring at her. “Um, is something wrong?” No one says anything, but now no one will look at her. Gwin sees one girl glance at Amy. “Amy, what’s happening?”
Amy shows her the pill bottle in her hand. “What are these? Gwin…. Are you on drugs?” Gwin’s face tuns bright red and she stutters, her heart racing as she tries to explain herself. The room starts to spin, and breathing becomes a chore. She feels like a hideous beast in a circus, trapped in a cage as people jeer at her and whisper about how deplorable she is, helpless to do anything to stop them.
“I—I—those are my um... my—antidepressants,” she practically whispers the word, her cheeks glowing red, and her head growing light.
“Your what?”
“My antidepressants.” A few girls murmur, exchanging looks. Gwin reaches the peak of embarrassment, her eyes watering now. She grabs the pills from Amy’s hand, and snatches up her back pack, hurrying out of the house. Amy calls after her, but she is too embarrassed to look back. Her eyes are blurred with tears as she runs out into the street, causing her to not see the car coming. She probably could have jumped out of the way and ended up with a broken leg, but she knew this was for the best, her friends were better off without her. She didn’t need to worry them anymore.
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The end.
