Short Story - This too shall pass
21:55
By Gina Hartley
"As I wait for my mum to pick me up, I catch a glimpse of my
distorted reflection in the cars that drive past. My medium length hair covers
most of my face, but the part of my face you can see, looks sad. I give the
reflection of me a half-hearted smile, but even distorted, it looks empty,
fake. I spot mum’s car pulling up beside me, and I try to force my smile wider
and more genuinely happy to see her, as I give a small wave. She smiles and
waves back, seemingly unaware of how I feel like I could fall apart at any
given moment. I make my way to the car.
“How was work?” She asks me in the same happy tone she
always does,
“It was good,” I say neutrally. Translation: It’s never good.
“What did you have to do this time?”
“Just deal with customer service, you know, in case they
don’t like a product and want to return it,” Translation: The people I have to deal with are so rude; they tease me and treat me
like I’m a child.
“This sounds good,”
“It was,” Translation: It
wasn’t.
“I’m really glad you’ve gotten that job, I’m so proud of
you!”
“Thanks mum,” Translation: I hate it and I want to quit.
“How was school today?”
“It was alright,” Translation: Alright is an understatement.
“Do you have any assignments due soon?”
“Yes, I’ll need to do that when I get home,” Translation: I don’t even know where to start.
Mum pulls into the driveway and I make my way up to the
house. Before I enter the front door, I turn around and catch her talking to
our elderly neighbour. She’s smiling and gesturing in my direction and I know she’s
talking about how I’m supposedly doing well in school and how I’m the perfect
daughter. The thought makes me sadder than I realise as I blink back tears. I’m
living in a world where my mother doesn’t even know who I am, or what I’ve
done, or how much I hate myself for it. I walk into the house trying to banish
that thought from my mind as I close the door behind me.
That night, as I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, I feel
my eyes watering up. I begin to question my existence, as I do almost every
night. I make up scenarios in my head that both frighten and intrigue me. What
would it be like if I was gone? No one would really remember me would they? The
demons inside me already know the answer, and they chant it softly, dangling my
life like a thread they believe I’m willing to chop. Taunting me with my life
and the worst part is sometimes, I think I believe them. Now I’m really
crying as giant sobs wrack my body. To think my parents are sound asleep under
the same roof. Never knowing, and never going to find out.
The next day at school, I’m sitting down with my group,
eating lunch. They all seem happy, smiling and blissfully unaware. I stare into
space feeling more disconnected from life since, well ever.
“Hey Livy,” my friend Tess says to me, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine seriously,” I say, trying to smile. Translation: Why do you care?
“Are you sure?” She presses on, “You just look kind of sad.”
“Are you sure?” She presses on, “You just look kind of sad.”
“Nah, I’m all good, just super tired.” I say faking a laugh.
Translation: You wouldn’t understand.
“Livy, I know you well enough to know a fake laugh when I
see one, what’s gotten into you lately?”
“Tess, I’m fine can you please just drop the subject?!” I
say harshly to my surprise. Translation: Please
drop the subject before I start crying, I don’t want to be selfish and make
this about me.
My whole group exchange looks and I sigh. Sometimes I feel
like there’s nowhere I really belong, and nowhere that will be willing to take
me.
“Well just remember Liv, we’re always here for you in thick
and thin okay?” My whole group’s nodding in agreement as a wave of confusion
goes over me. Why do they care? And that’s when I know the tears started
rolling. Tess puts her arm around me and I put my head on her shoulder. As I
stain her shirt with my tears, she whispers softly in my ear,
“This too shall pass.”
Hey everyone,
Just a quick Saturday afternoon post for you all today! I think this story is quite a serious one and I've based it loosely on one of my friends. I personally think that as a writer, I should strive to make my audience feel something when they read my work. It's about addressing serious, real world issues in a subtle way, and creating this blog has been a perfect opportunity to do this in a safe and welcoming community. According to Mindframe, a National Australian Media Initiative, approximately 1 in 5 Australians will experience mental health problems in 2015*. That is roughly 20% of Australia's population or 4.62 million people. Talk about a growing issue. Many people don't understand either that mental illness isn't an option for people, it's a brain condition, and should be treated as such. With a higher level of awareness in Australia, and worldwide, there are many solutions to this seemingly permanent situation. If any of you reading this today are showing any symptoms, there are many wonderful organisations that deal with these particular issues such as:
- Headspace AU - visit their website
- Lifeline - call on 13 11 14 or visit their website
- Kids Helpline - call on 1800 55 1800 or visit their website
- Beyond Blue - call 1300 22 4636 or visit their website
Hopefully I didn't dull down your spirits too much with this post, and that you enjoy reading my short stories as much as I enjoy writing them for you. Leave me a comment down below with any suggestions or improvements you might have,
And until next time,
Gina Hartley xx
approximately one
in every five Australians will experience a mental illness. - See more
at:
http://www.mindframe-media.info/for-media/reporting-mental-illness/facts-and-stats#sthash.r34VC34p.dpuf
approximately one
in every five Australians will experience a mental illness. - See more
at:
http://www.mindframe-media.info/for-media/reporting-mental-illness/facts-and-stats#sthash.r34VC34p.dpuf
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