To Those We've Lost
Dedicated to all those I've lost along the way, alive or not. To Casey, Don, Shelby, Winnie, and too many others to name.
Chapter 1
"We're just concerned for you, Lexa." Doctor Williams looked over his spectacles at me, trying to see if I had reacted to what he and mom had just talked to me about. I open my mouth to speak, and my voice comes out weaker than I expected it to. "I know. I just don't think the problem is as bad as you make it out to be. I've always thought something was wrong, but I didn't think much of it." Mom looks at me with something that resembles pity, and it makes me angry. Just last week, she was yelling at me because I didn't get an "A" on that assignment, and telling me that I wasn't doing my best, in life or in school. I didn't go out with friends, I didn't go over to a friend's house, I just stayed home and sat there. Did my homework, read, said hello to mom when she got home to work, ate, and then went to sleep. Sometimes not. Sometimes, I'd stay up too late, unable to sleep because I'd be thinking. About, nothing in particular. Although often it would be me thinking about who or what would leave me for good next. My father, Gustus had died ten years ago, when I was six. My older sister, Anya, was eight. My mother, Alexandria, was devastated. She knew he had been drinking a lot, and she had trusted him to be able to drive himself back home. She never talked to him again. When I was 13, my grandfather, who's name I don't remember, died of a heart attack. He was the father figure I had after Dad died. Grandpa would take me hunting, fishing, doing things a normal father would do. Hell, he's the reason I wanted to play the saxophone when I was ten. The next one to leave was our family dog, Brutus. I was also 13, and fresh off the loss of Grandpa. Brutus was never an overly affectionate dog, but he was always there, and when I was 13, there was a lot of change going on, with Brutus being the only constant. He had literally been alive longer than me. Next was our second dog, Walter. He was one when we got him from the humane society, and he died just last month, at the age of 7. Had a tumor that nobody, not even the vets, had noticed. I was 16 then. Still am, three months after his death. My best friend from childhood, Costia, and I had finally drifted apart. We don't even talk anymore. Just the polite head nod when we pass in the hallway. It pains me to see her being so happy, so content with life, while I'm over here with nothing but memories. Well, there is a bright spot in my life. Her name is Clarke Griffin, and she's my new best friend. We are both juniors in high school, and we both met our freshman year. I was nervous to talk to her at first, because I'm usually that way around attractive people. And Clarke was exceptionally attractive. Still is. The blondest head of hair you've ever seen. So blonde it seemed like she was giving off light. Her smile, and how it lights up the room. Her eyes, so blue that looking into them makes me feel like I'm diving into the deep end of a pool. And, to top it off, she's one of the funniest people I've ever known. Her sense of humor is one of the rare ones that fit with my dry, serious sense of humor. I think I liked her as more than a friend from the moment I befriended her. But, with my history of loss, I'd never told her, because I'm too afraid she'll push me away when I tell her, and that will be the end of it. I'll have no more friends. Nobody to talk to. Nobody to listen to. Nobody to gossip with. Gone, just as fast as she came. No, I couldn't have that. So as much as it pained me to not let go of my feelings, I didn't tell Clarke how I felt. The pain of losing her would not be worth the slim chance she likes me as more than a friend as well. That must be why I am how I am. Anyways, the appointment ended with the doctor prescribing me an antidepressant, and insisting I find a counselor. I agree, because I'm tired of feeling this way. I'm tired of never being happy. I'm not sad all the time, just never happy. I went home, ate my small portion of dinner, and went to sleep. I was exhausted. And, quite frankly, upset. I'd be forcing even more medication into my body, as if the Adderall wasn't enough. Now, on top of the generous amount I'm taking, I'll be taking a generous amount of this antidepressant – Prozac, was it? Yeah, that's it. So anyways, I'm starting that tomorrow. Yay. Another day in the life of Lexa Woods. This shitty, good-for-nothing life. Honestly, the only reason I've never even considered ending it all is because I'm too selfless for my own good. I can't do that to mom. I can't do that to Anya. I would never in a million years do that to Clarke. Ah, Clarke. The only one who can seem to make me smile a genuine smile. The only one I can feel like being me is okay. And with the thought of her, I drift into a soft, dreamless sleep.
A/N: Howdy y'all! It's me, happyfeet. You may remember me from the fanfic "Love is Strength" which is now also known as the first fiction that'll probably never be continued. I just lost my inspiration due to recent events in my life that have happened. I just wasn't invested in that story anymore. So, here's a new story, inspired by real-life events that happened to yours truly. No, my dad didn't die, but he did move away and I never see him anymore. Also, I want to clarify that in this fic Lexa, like me, has ADHD. This will let me tell the story how I feel like it should be. Since I jump from thinking about one thing to another, it seemed fitting that in a story inspired by real-life events to have some type of realism to it. The story will be entirely from Lexa's point of view. Think of this as more of a prologue than a first chapter, or perhaps me setting the scene. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this and I look forwards to hearing your feedback!