One

My thoughts were going wild. They kept spinning and spinning, and I cannot stop them from going off the rail.

I looked down at the test, it's fabric rough against my hands, and I put it down ashamed of who I am. Nothing makes me feel more stupid than being handed a paper stamped with failure I spent so much time on.

In the other room, I could hear my parent's laughter, if they would only know.

I put on some old songs, as they are the only ones that can reach out to me through the dark. Listening to music helps me process what I feel inside. Whenever I feel like I have no one to talk to, I can just listen to the voice accompanied by the melody filled with emotions, telling me that I will somehow be okay one day.


Two

I wondered how it would feel to hold Clay Jensen's hand, going for a walk out in the dark. The cold air creating vapor as we breathe, illustrating us as smokers, for strangers afar.

In my head, I imagined walking up to him, my fingertips trailing down his cheek. In my head, I saw him seeing me for the first time. Why did this thought have to be so surreal as it closed in on reality? Why couldn't this be reality?

And so, my thoughts kept on spinning, making me feel out of breath, overwhelming my chest in thrusting pain, far too great to scream about it out loud.

How could I ever burden another being with this amount of anxious pain which felt like fire within? Would I be missed if I did something to get rid of this pain?

At nights like these, I just let my thought go off into the wild, and instead of dreaming, I listened to their chanting of my sorrows, mistakes and the tougher days.


Three

I took a deep, sharp breath before I turned around the knob to enter the kitchen, afraid of facing my mom, I looked down at the floor, and walked passed her to open the fridge. The movement unleashed the cold and smell of food, which was hard to look at. I took the first best thing I saw in there and started making myself a smaller sandwich, ignoring the noises in the distance.

"Hannah, you don't have to be so rude in the morning." I looked up at my mom. She looked so beautiful, but her words troubled me in days like these.

"Sorry." I looked away, bringing my food with me to the dining table.

"How are you Hannah?" she was holding her car keys, ready to open the front door. I looked at her, as I tried to gather myself to form a sentence,

"I- "as I fumbled for the right words too long, she left, and I was all alone.

Maybe the word I tried to look for was numb. To feel so numb that it becomes a struggle to talk to people.


Four

I watched Clay who sat in front of me, nodding his head every now and then, in an attempt to stay awake at English period. His presence calmed me.

I thought of love as a fragile thing. Because at one moment, you could mean the world to someone, while a couple of months later, you could become the last thing they ever think about. I thought about how relationships themselves are dynamic, and how sad it would be if I one day didn't get to tell the person I used to care so much for, how much they really meant to me. So, I thought, that maybe if I reminded them every now and then as we still stayed in touch, they would yet remember me and my words, even though our relation faded long ago.

The school's bell broke off our teacher's words, and we all collected our stuff as we were dismissed. Outside the class, wandering my gaze over the crowd, I hurried to catch Clay's arm.

"Hey Hannah." His eyes spoke it all, puzzled, yet curious what was to come.

"Can we meet up after school?"


Five

I turned the car key around, sparking life to the engine, as Clay put on his seatbelt.

I put my arm around his seat, to gaze behind me and turn the car around and out of the parking lot.

I could never have guessed how far away from gathered my emotions really were in that instance.

The car moved forwards in silence, and off into a landscape I didn't know existed. Old oak trees and willows shaped the edges into silhouettes, and I couldn't help but look at the ground which was covered by colored grass and flowers.

"Where are we going?" I heard him ask in a subtle voice.

"Somewhere far away."

"Are you okay?", he said after a longer silence.

I remember the time where I used to tell the few people I loved what I truly felt inside, but now that felt like ages ago.

"I don't really do that anymore."

"Do what?"

"I've stopped trying, trying to be heard." If you say what's on your mind enough times, it makes people leave in the end.

"But I do hear you, loud and clearly." I smiled, for a brief, short moment.

"Birds sound beautiful in the distance and in crowds, but up close and isolated, it's all just screams."

"…you're scaring me, Hannah."

"I'm scared too."


Six

I stopped the car, in the middle of nowhere, with an enclosing mist far off in the distance, I climbed out of the car, and hopped up onto the car's hood, and waited for Clay to do the same. But he didn't. Instead, he walked around and stopped in front of me, and put his hands in mine.

"Hannah please, I am here. I'm here. You can talk to me. Please talk to me."

It was hard to meet his gaze, and so I looked past his him. I traced my thumb along his palm.

"Have you ever just felt completely nothing at the same time as you feel absolutely everything?" Have you ever felt dead inside, even though at the end of your fingertips, tracing them along the boy you like, makes you feel sparks ignite, bringing you back to life?

His eyes, his face, he squeezed my hands, trying to understand.

"I do want to help you Hannah, I really do, but I don't know how."

Can love defeat insanity and bring back life?

I wasn't sure if I believed in the concept of love. But I did however, believe in caring for each other in the present. I hopped off the hood, and wrapped my arms around him, noting the thin layers of fabric between us. I felt the warmth that he radiated and rested my head against his shoulder. The fabric dug in under my nails, and I pressed him harder against me.

And for the first time in months, he made me smile a genuine smile. I was stunned how a hug could affect me this much. Maybe it was because I had isolated myself for so long, a simple hug reminded me of good, happy days.

Was I unhappy because I had forgotten how to be happy, or because I had lost my connection to the world I once shared?


Seven

Depression doesn't always hit you at 3 PM you see.
Sometimes it's at 3 AM when you're hanging out with your friends, and your laugh suddenly ends.

Some things are hard to think about. And so is being reminded of them. Some things are better left out there in the dark. And so, I left the school's cafeteria in a hurry. I felt someone wrap their hands around me, turning me around.

"Please don't leave me again", his voice so fragile.

It would be so easy to leave. Leave everyone behind. But I looked into his eyes, and knew that I just couldn't. He made me want to stay. His touch comforted me. And made me feel warmth.

I looked into his eyes once again,

"Okay."

"Okay?"

His smile was cute.


Eight

The same night as prom, I wandered off the campus, holding my heels in my left, and Clays hand with my right. A smile played on my lips.

"This is me," I tell him, then look up at the sky to witness the stars. It amazed me how magnificent those scattered dots of light looked in the dark. As I gazed at the stars, they reminded me how small this town really was. There were so many things out there that I had yet not seen. We are so fragile and small, yet we somehow survive.

"Do you mind joining me for a bit?" I asked, as I lead him to the lawn.

And as we lay down, our backs against the damp grass, careful not to let go of each others' hands, I spoke faint,

"My mother asked me a while ago how I was doing. But she shut the door without an answer."

Clay turned his head and body towards me, close enough to feel his breath against my skin.

"If it was up to me, I would have opened the door to hear the answer. And I would have done the same the day after that." He made me smile in a way I hadn't done in years.

"You're one of a kind, you know that right? Hard to find. And I mean that in the nicest way." I tell him.

He leaned towards me, happier than I've ever seen him, and stroke his lips gently against mine, as a slow dance.


Nine

I stroked some hair behind my right ear, as we stood under the willow tree. Clay and I shared headphones, and the amazing gift to hear the instruments that echoed the singer's emotions.

One good thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel no pain.

My life may have felt like it sucked, but if you can't change the situation, then maybe changing the perspective would make me happier.

The thought about Clay's presence made me feel healed.

He made me believe that love could heal.


Ten

Who am I? What am I? I feel as if no one understands me. Is there anyone out there that understands me? Can you come out please? Is what I feel stupid? Am I stupid? Would someone ever believe me if I spoke the words that circled around my mind out loud?

Too bad no one here can silence my thoughts. But then, I guess that I am the only one that can.


Eleven

I drew thin lines with a dark pen over my arm, just below my palm, which together became a compass. In days like these, when I felt completely lost, I thought that maybe if I looked down at the symbol, I would somehow find my way back home one day. It gave me strength I needed to pursue this day.

People might have looked at me as if I was out of my mind, and maybe I was. But why should I care what other people think, if they aren't a part of my life. This chapter in my life might be rough and dark, and I really didn't want to allow random people to judge me for it. I am a person, I am worthy of love, just as much as anyone else. I just needed to remind myself of that more often.


Twelve

Summer vacation was only a few weeks away. And I felt a thousand times lighter. I enjoyed the summer breeze, running barefoot over the campus grass

Growing up, bad memories, along with the good, shaped the one I am today. I used the bad ones to gather strength, while I used the good ones to gather comfort in the darker days.


Thirteen

I remember the time when I felt sad.

I remember it as being captured by a dark cloud, fogging your vision, poisoning your mind.

Today I see things clearly. I feel happy, I feel like I matter, that my actions bring meaning to my life. Watching other people smile makes me feel better.

Maybe it was that I had aged, and my chemicals in my brain weren't going crazy as they used to; or maybe it was that I had changed my perspective of things in my life.

What mattered was that things were okay again.