Not Alone
Mindy sits up, yawning.
It's the afternoon. The sun shined through her bedroom curtains. She looks at the window, smiling a little.
Did I sleep through half of the day?
Mindy stretches her arms and legs, sliding off the bed. She shivers, feeling the cool breeze of the apartment hitting the skin of her arms. She wraps her arms around herself, walking out of the room.
As she sits down on the couch, she looks up at the ceiling. Sighing to herself, she hears a knock at her door.
"Who's there?" she asks, getting up.
Walking up to the door, she opens it. Mark is at the door, leaning on the doorway.
"How have you been?" he questions her.
"Why are you asking me that? I'm alright."
Mark sighs. "I didn't see you this morning."
"I slept in, that's all," Mindy pauses. "Why do you want to know this?"
"I'm a little worried about you," Mark says, walking inside.
Mindy looks at him, not stopping him for a second. She closes the door, locking it. "I really think this is no big deal. Do you see me reaching for a gun?" she says with a smile.
"What?" Mark snaps. "You have a gun?"
Mindy gasps. "Wait! I'm only joking!"
Mark sighs softly. "Can I see the gun, Mindy?"
"It's only for protection."
Mark only stares at her. Mindy lowers her head, walking into her bedroom. Seeing the gun on the small wooden desk, she takes it and walks back into the living room.
"Here, Mark."
Mark takes the gun, looking closely at it. "This is for protection?"
Mindy nods. "I shouldn't have said anything about this, or even joke about it with you around. You are just paranoid."
"Yeah. I feel like from your jokes you are wanting to kill youself, right?" Mark asks.
"No!" Mindy says, eyes widened. "Why do you think I will do that? I never think about those things."
"Are you sure? Your jokes are pretty dark."
"Well, that's my type of humor. I like looking into the dark places of society. You enjoyed them, right?" Mindy is now feeling self-conflicted.
"The jokes were fine, Mindy. It's just the problem of you having a gun. Are you supposed to have one?"
Mindy shakes her head. "My therapist told me that I shouldn't have one since I was mentally ill, which is a bunch of bullshit on his part."
"Did you get it from someone?"
Mindy nods. "One of my co workers gave it to me."
Mark places the gun on the kitchen 'bar wall' she has in her apartment. He walks up to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You can be honest with me, alright? Do you think of anything to harm yourself with?"
"Hey," Mindy spoke. "Weren't you the one that held a finger gun to his head in that elevator one time?"
"I was having a rough day being at the bank, dealing with others. That was all I had. For you, though, why did you do it back to me when I was going to my apartment?"
"I thought you may have liked a dramatic take on it." Mindy smiles, but then she frowns. "I thought you would relate to it."
"Alright, but do you feel that way?"
"What 'way'?"
"Wanting to stop existing?"
"A little, but I've gotten better by talking with you, Mark."
Mark moves his hand to his side. He backs up from her.
"Let's talk on the couch, alright?" Mindy tells him, walking over to the couch. Mark follows her.
The two are now sitting on the couch.
"So, can you tell me how you feel about anything? Anything at all?"
Mindy looks down at her lap. "Do you know about the subway murders that happened?"
"Of course I know, it's all over the news right now."
"A person by the name of Travis talked about how all of us were clowns."
"On the news?"
Mindy looks at him. "Yes. He said that the person that killed those three guys was wearing a clown mask, and that all of us were clowns."
"I have to say this, Mindy," Mark pauses. "Travis, the squid running for mayor or whatever, he just thinks about himself, not others. That's why he is saying those things, and it had caused a riot. No big deal. We are standing up for ourselves for once."
Mindy nods, agreeing with him. "That's true, Mark." She smiles. "There are other things that bother me about this city, like me getting fired over something stupid and other things."
"You live in a city that's shit while you are mentally ill?"
Mindy nods, starting to smile wider. She tries to hide the fact that she is starting to laugh.
"Are you okay?" Mark asks, worried.
Mindy can't hold it in. She starts to laugh, seeming to be fine. After a while, her lungs are starting to hurt from the fit she is having. She begins to cough, not ending it right away. Tears are starting to fill her eyes as this fit continues.
Mindy grabs her neck, trying to choke herself. It doesn't stop the fit. Suddenly she starts to cough, slowly ending the fit.
Mark wraps his right arm around her shoulders.
"I'm sorry," Mindy spoke, lowering her head.
"It's alright, you don't not to apologize for that. It's just the real you."
Mindy looks up at him, a little confused. "So, you think with me showing off my laughing fit is-"
Mark cuts off her sentence. "It's not showing off, Mindy. It just happened, just like life does sometimes."
Mindy nods. "Yeah, you're right."
"Sometimes you may have days where you feel you can't control anything, or that you feel lonely in the world," Mark said. "You aren't alone, Mindy. You have never been alone. Other people may be going through the same thing you are going through, you never know."
Mindy nods, listening to every word that Mark says.
I wish I was normal, Mindy thought.
"Now, do you need anything else from me? A hug?" Mark asked.
"I think I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I'm alright. Thanks for the talk."
"You're welcome, Mindy. Just remember, you can always talk to me. I'm here for you," Mark says, standing up from the couch and walking to the wooden door.
"Alright. Bye."
"Bye, Mindy," Mark says, looking back at her one last time before leaving her apartment.
