The sound of loud bells at 7:30 AM had awaken Bickslow from his night's rest. He groaned with dread as he slammed his finger onto the dismiss button. Then, he sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. He officially began another morning.
He trudged to the bathroom with the type of movement a zombie would be proud of. Cold water had soon hit his face and he stared at his tousled hair and weary eyes in the mirror.
He then dressed in the usual fashion, a formal white button-down, suit and tie. It seemed appropriate for the office. He straightened his tie and smoothed some his hair so that it wouldn't seem as crazy as usual.
After making a cup of black coffee and some burnt toast with jam, he got in his car. Traffic made him miserable as always. He cursed every soul that lived in Magnolia as the cars around him honked loudly.
/
Finally. The office. He didn't hate this place. No, really. He supposed he would loathe his job if it hadn't been for the one co-worker that made everyone else tolerable. As he dropped his stuff onto a desk in his cubicle, he heard a sweet voice call from behind him.
"Good morning!"
Bickslow looked up to see a familiar white-haired woman smiling brightly at him. Today, he noticed, she was wearing a pretty blazer and pencil skirt. He nodded towards her.
"Morning."
She continued to smile, waving goodbye as she left his sight.
Bickslow sighed and got to work.
/
He packed up all of his stuff and dragged himself out of the office around six. Before he could get in his car, the same white-haired woman stood behind him, shouting his name.
He turned around to see her, panting harshly as she placed her hands on her knees. Had she really gone down all those flights of stairs just to catch up to him? The elevator wasn't working after all. And what exactly did she need from him?
"You left your phone at your desk," she said, almost out of breath. "I didn't want anyone to take it."
Bickslow's eyes widened as he realized she told the truth. He tried to hide his embarrassment as he took his phone from her and shoved it into his pocket.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow!"
"Yeah."
He got in his car and drove home, the thought of her kind act slowly slipping from his mind as he became distracted and angered with the traffic jams of Magnolia.
/
Bickslow sat on his bed, feeling a bit comfortable in the usual t-shirt and boxers. He stared at the white pills in front of him, a glass of water on the side too. The doctor said it was up to him if he wanted to take the medicine. It would help slightly, but not much. Still, it might've been better than nothing. He would only do it if it helped...
Should he take the pills?
.
.
.
.
.
.
After a short breath, he downed the medicine and drank the water quickly.
He gazed at his alarm clock on his phone drearily before setting it for the same time. He promised himself that it would just be the same day, same routine, same thing. Nothing would change. Life would run its course, and he'd just watch from the sidelines and go along with everything. He would just do as he always did.
It wasn't long before his worry and unrest became replaced by exhaustion. His eyes closed and his mind swept him away into a dark landscape without illumination.
New day. Same routine.
Bickslow groaned as his alarm bells forced him awake. He was tempted to throw his phone into the wall, but resisted the urge to. He got up and made his way towards the bathroom. The cold water was a great old pal, a slap to the face and a reminder that he wasn't dreaming any longer.
He grabbed his clothes for the day and slipped them on without care. Then he glanced at himself in the mirror. His hair didn't seem too bad today. He patted it down quickly and walked to the kitchen. The toaster had been a brat as usual. Bickslow wasn't surprised as he munched on his burnt toast and later got into his car.
Traffic wasn't any different. He almost banged his head on the steering wheel out of exasperation as the cars around him honked, and honked, and honked, and honked, and…
/
He dropped all his things onto his desk and hesitated a bit before sitting down. He glanced at the clock. Would the person he was waiting for come around to his cubicle to greet him? It seemed silly. He didn't know whether or not to wait for her any longer. However, before he could sit down, she came around.
"Good morning!"
He always wondered how she could be the same cheerful and kind woman with that radiant smile of hers everyday. Did she ever get tired of it? Was it even genuine? Bickslow shook his head a bit. Why would...why would someone fake a smile? Why would someone fake a smile for him?
"Morning."
She held back a bit longer, staring at him before she waved him goodbye.
He waved back, despite the fact that she was gone. Then he turned towards his work with a grimace. He couldn't afford to become… distracted.
/
He remembered to bring his phone with him before he left. He didn't want to trouble her. The stairs were anything but pleasant.
Then, a thought came to him. Would she see him off like she did yesterday? Maybe yesterday had been an exception. He didn't know if he wanted to even see her. Did she want to seem him?
No. He promised himself that he wouldn't burden her. She would only come down to the parking lot if she was going home too. Why would she see him off? Why...
"Hey." Someone tapped his shoulder.
Of course she had.
Bickslow snapped around and towered over her with a curious stare.
She gasped and then bit her lip. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to...I'm sorry."
"...it's alright."
"Oh…" She didn't have any words to say except for, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Yeah."
She nodded, her pretty sapphire blue eyes shining with relief. She waved farewell before she walked towards her own ride home.
Then, he got into his car with a sigh as he prepared for dreadful Magnolia rush hour traffic.
/
The pills laid in his hand again. A curse slipped from his lips. He was being so indecisive again. It was a simple choice. Take the pills. Don't take them. He had taken them the day before and it was fine. He didn't feel the slightest bit different. Maybe he had to take them regularly for them to actually have an effect.
This time, he swallowed them dry.
His pillow called to him and he had no choice but to obey. The same alarm was set and his phone was placed to the side. As he laid there in bed, he wondered what tomorrow would be like. Then, he skipped a breath.
Why did he even think about it? It didn't matter. Tomorrow would be another day, another regular day. Nothing would change. Nothing. And that didn't matter at all. He was completely okay with it.
Honestly.
The alarm rang at 7:30. He dismissed it with a groan.
Then, to the bathroom. The cold water did its job. His face seemed more tired than usual.
Clothes. Hair. What did it matter?
Oh, how he had taken his guardian's cooking for granted. Nevertheless, the burnt toast sat fine with him.
Traffic. He snickered. Traffic? More like hell. The honks blared right and left and never stopped.
/
He hadn't even realized that she had tried to greet him until she was behind him, tapping him gently on the shoulder. He became frozen at the fact. How out of it had he been?
"...good morning! Um….I just wanted to know….are you okay?"
One nod seemed to make her more suspicious than relieved.
"Really?"
Another nod.
She gazed at him worriedly. "Okay then. But if there's anything you need, let me know! Got it?"
He kept still.
She shook him gently. "Got it?" she said softly.
He nodded.
She sighed quietly before waving goodbye.
Bickslow closed his eyes for a minute. What was happening to him?
/
"I'm glad it didn't happen yesterday, but it seems like you're a bit forgetful today."
Bickslow resisted the urge to curse as she handed him his phone.
"Please don't forget it again."
He looked at her. "Okay."
She smiled. "Well then. I guess you'll be going home."
"Yeah."
"I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Traffic seemed a tiny bit less like a hell that evening.
/
He was proud. It hadn't take him long to decide this time. The pills were down his throat with only a few thoughts of hesitation. He didn't even know if it was false hope or the truth, but he began to feel a slightly bit better.
He did reject a few ideas though. It had only been three days. There was no way he would make a significant change in that short amount of time.
He made sure everything was set in place before he laid down. The alarms, his clothes, his important things...all done and prepared. Sleep felt a bit easier that way. His mind needed a rest. The darkness welcomed him with open arms while he closed his eyes.
No worries, he told himself. Just another day tomorrow.
Alarms.
Cold water.
Clothes. Hair.
Burnt toast.
The same morning traffic.
/
"Good morning!"
/
"I'll see you tomorrow!"
/
Pills.
Sleep.
Wake up.
Water.
Get dressed.
Make toast. Still burnt.
Traffic.
/
"Good morning!"
/
"I'll see you tomorrow!"
/
Pills.
Sleep.
Alarm. Water. Clothes. Breakfast. Traffic.
Done.
/
"Good morning!"
/
"I'l see you tomorrow!"
/
Pills.
Sleep.
Alarm. Water. Clothes. Toast. Traffic.
/
The morning greeting.
/
The evening farewell.
/
Pills. Sleep.
Alarm.
.
.
Water.
.
.
Clothes.
.
.
Toast.
.
.
Traffic.
.
.
"Good morning!"
.
.
"I'l see you tomorrow!"
.
.
Pills.
.
.
Sleep.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The same routine. Over. And over. And over. And over again.
It'll never stop. Never stop. Never. Never. Never.
It'll keep going on and on and on and on and on andonandonandonandonandonandonandonand-
.
.
.
.
Someone had tapped him on the shoulder lightly.
That's right. He was at the office again.
He turned his head.
It wasn't her. Instead, it was a blonde lady with puffy eyes and grief written all over her.
She said in the quietest of all voices, "I just want to let you know that….Lisanna took her life last night."
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Bickslow stared at the spot where she had greeted him every morning.
He sat still and silent, staring, remembering.
"Good morning!"
Why….
.
.
.
.
Bickslow did not hesitate to cry that day.
A/N: Every single life is important. Please take care of yourselves and others. Please support people who are coping with depression. It's a very serious thing. Please don't hesitate to tell anyone if you need someone to talk to. If you are contemplating suicide, please tell someone. Please, please, please. For anyone who is reading this, know that you're important. There is someone out there who loves you.
Please remember: Depression Isn't Always Obvious.
Thank you for reading this~ Cici Bear