Tw: This chapter contains depression symptoms, such as lack of energy, loss of appetite, and mentions of self harm. Viewer discretion is advised.

If you wish to not read any passages about mental health issues, then stop reading at:

The truth is, I wanted nothing more than this hell to be over.

And continue reading at:

I needed to try and be happy again, even if it would kill me in the process.

An: I just wanted to say that this whole story will have mental health issues involved, and I can only really give you warnings for stuff in specific places where it heavily involves mental health issues, but there will always be lines such as "to distract myself from the voices inside my head". So take this as kind a permanent warning for the rest of the story, but I'll still be sure to give you warnings in the chapters where it heavily involves elements such as panic attacks, and depression related issues. Thank You! And happy reading!

Today:

A couple more boring weeks pass by, and the only thing to really do was to rewatch Bake Off, and watch horror movies with my sister. She's kind of a horror movie fanatic, so every time she finds something that's bound to give me nightmares she brings it to my attention, and then naturally we have to watch it. It can be a good distraction when I need it though. Just to get away from the voices in my head.

So, today was the last day before the trip, and, let's just say I was a nervous wreck. I've been curled up in my bed watching Bake Off, all day. Just thinking, and I really couldn't seem to get the girl from earlier, Elle, off my mind. Why did she talk to the teacher while pointing at me? Were we going to share a room, just because I stood up for her? I wasn't sure if I was ready for that, but she did seem nice, and I did promise my Mum that I'd try and make at least one friend during the Paris trip. Maybe this was my chance.

But to interrupt my thoughts, Mum came in and said, "Hey sweetie, how's packing going?"

Shit.

I forgot to start packing.

Shit.

"You forgot to start packing, didn't you?" I just nodded my head in response. Then Mum said, "Well, you should probably start doing that, just let me know if you need anything, okay?" "Okay." "Alright, well I should probably leave you to it then, you practically have a whole day of packing to catch up on." "Okay, bye Mum." I said while getting up from my bed, and shutting the door. Then I sighed and began to pull out my suitcase from the back of my closet, and when I did, I saw a photo of us that we took at the top of the Eiffel Tower taped onto one of my suitcases.

We looked simultaneously wonderstruck by the view and relived that we managed to climb all of those stairs without passing out. As soon as I saw the photo, I sank down onto my knees and started to cry.

The truth is I wanted nothing more than this hell to be over. I just wanted to be able to sleep without constantly feeling like there's a knot in my stomach. I wanted to be able to breathe without feeling like I'm going to suffocate, and most of all, I just wanted you. I wanted you to come back so I could talk to you about this. I wanted you to come back so I didn't have to feel so alone, because before you died everything was fine. I couldn't have been happier. I constantly felt like I was on top of the world, but now that your gone, everything has spiraled out of control, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

Why did you have to leave me?

Then, after a feeble attempt at trying to calm down. I took a deep breath, and tried to stand up, but my legs gave out, as if all of my energy had left me entirely, and I collapsed back down on the ground. I wasn't sure why I couldn't walk properly, but every time I tried to stand up, my legs would wobble, almost as though I completely forgot how to walk, and the I would collapse back on the ground in a broken heap. Maybe I was tired. So I carefully stood up and walked back to my bed, laid down, and almost immediately fell asleep.

Then, about four hours later, I woke up to Mum shouting "Dinner time!" Then I reluctantly began to trek downstairs, feeling no less tired than earlier. As soon as I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen, Mum gave me a worried look and said, "Hey, are you feeling alright? You look like you just walked out of the gym." "Yeah, I'm fine," I said while yawning.

I wasn't sure why I was so tired, I just had a four hour nap, but I couldn't help feeling as though I could pass out into my pasta at any minute. Then Mum said, "Alright, just let me know if you need an extra cup of tea or something, okay?" "Yeah, okay" Then my sister and Dad sat down, and could immediately sense that something was wrong. They were good at that. So my sister said, "Hey, you alright?" "Yeah, I'm fine." "You sure? Cause you look like shit." Then Dad said, "Language Emily, but yeah, you do look like crap, what's wrong?" "I don't know, just tired." They all gave me concerned looks, but since it was obvious I didn't want to talk about it, they respected that and we all began to start talking about the trip.

"So, are you excited?" asked Mum. No, not really, I was kind of terrified, but since Mum thought that I had already quashed those feelings, I decided that it was better to act perfectly fine.

To act as if I wasn't slowly dying.

"Yeah, I'm excited." "Well, that's great!" said Mum with a proud tone in her voice.

Then all of a sudden, I felt sick, like if I were to eat another bite, I would throw up. So I put down my fork, and made up a few excuses that I simply wasn't hungry. They knew something was wrong, but I couldn't tell them. Mainly because I wasn't sure what I'd even say, like "Hey guys, so guess what, something is very wrong with me and it needs to be fixed before I do something really, really stupid." Yeah, I wasn't sure what to do. Maybe I could figure it out another time.

Right now I really needed to start packing, and since I didn't have the time or the energy to do a neat job, I decided that half-assing it will have to be good enough. So I shove clothes into every nook and cranny of my suitcase that I can find, and then I pack other necessities. Then after a few moments of that, I found my razor in my shower while looking for shampoo. This is what I use when I can't take the voices anymore. So I stare at it for a moment, then after few moments of mental debate, I decided to pack it. Then after about an hour or so of checking and double checking that I had everything that I needed, I decided it was time to get some sleep. Tomorrow would be a lot. Just a lot of memories that I'm not even sure if I want to remember. Memories of you, but I needed to try.

I needed to try and feel happy again, even if it would kill me in the process.

Day 1 of Paris trip:

When I woke up the next morning, it seems like it would be a perfect day. The sun was shining, I was going to have fun in Paris, what could go wrong? Well, everything really. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night because of stress, and now when I think about it more, there's not a whole lot that should make me this stressed. Sure, it's stressful, but should it really be this stressful? No, probably not, but I get up out of bed anyway, and go downstairs to get myself some breakfast.

After I went downstairs. I checked the clock.

Shit

I needed to be at the bus stop in 30 minutes.

So I quickly woke up my parents, as they slept in too, quickly grabbed myself a piece of toast, grabbed my suitcase, and practically ran out the door, into the car, and then we drove to the bus stop. It wasn't that far, thank God, or I probably would have missed the bus. Then after about 5 minutes of driving, we arrived.

And I felt like I was going to throw up.

So, after we got out of the car, Mum and Dad pulled me into a tight hug as Mum said, "Alright, you have fun okay? If you need anything, just call me okay?" "I'll be fine Mum, I promise." As I said those words, they felt like lies hanging on the end of my tongue, but I did promise myself that I would try.

But sometimes trying is never enough to make you feel whole again.

But I still walked onto the bus, waving to my family on the way in. "Hey, what you did was brave." said the teacher from Higgs, what was his name again? Mr. Ajayi? I still don't really know. "Yeah, I guess." I said in return, trying to sound as though I was some what proud of what I did, but that's just what any good person would do, right? So why should I have any right to feel proud of that?

So, after that brief exchange with Mr. Ajayi, I tried to find a seat, and after a couple minutes of searching, I found one that's behind a girl with curly black hair and another girl with bright blonde hair that's laying on her shoulder. I recognized those two, weren't they part of the table that was friends with Elle? Did they recognize me? Do they even remember me? Doubt it, but those assumptions were quashed as Elle came over and started talking to me.

"Hey, you're the one that stood up for me at that information meeting, right?" asked Elle. "Yeah, I guess." "Well, thanks for that, I really appreciate it." "Yeah, I guess I just thought it wasn't such a big deal." "Wasn't a big deal?!" shouts the girl with bright blonde hair. "That the most fucking cinematic thing I've ever seen on my goddamn life!" "Yeah, I have to agree with her on that one. That was amazing!" says the girl with curly black hair. "Oh, yeah, I'm Darcy by the way." said Darcy. "Yeah, and I'm Tara, nice to meet you." "Yeah, nice to meet you too." I tried to say that with more of a nice demeanor, but I was too tried and stressed out to be nice, and even as fucked up as that sounds, it couldn't be more true. "Yeah, and if you didn't already know, I'm Elle." "Yeah, it's nice to meet you guys." "Oh, yeah, and this is Sahar." said Elle.

"Wow, have you guys known each other for a while?" "Well, we just met Sahar while finding at least a group of four to stay with at the hotel, but me Tara and Darcy have been friends for a while." said Elle. "Where did you guys meet?" I said, trying to start a conversation. "We met at the all girls school that we go to." "But we do have other friends from Elle's old school." said Tara. "Yeah, they're right over there." said Darcy while pointing to four seats near the back of the bus.

Then after saying that, Mr. Ajayi and the teacher from Truham started taking the register, but since teenagers are teenagers, they didn't stay silent when Mr. Ajayi asked for silence. So the teacher from Truham did that for him as he shouted "QUIET!" Then, naturally everyone shut up after that. "O-okay, thank you Mr. Farouk." said Mr. Ajayi. Then, as he was taking the register, he asked for my name, so I said "Here." and everyone was looking at me again. Waiting for me to make a move.

But the attention was soon deflected off me as the next person said "Here." Maybe people didn't care as much as I thought they did. Maybe only the good ones cared, and the rest are jut trying to live their life. Maybe that was how to tell your friends from your enemies. I still wasn't sure. I wasn't sure about a lot of things. So I just got my earbud case from my pocket, took the earbuds out the case, shoved them in my ears, and hit shuffle on my (at least) 30 hour playlist. It started playing Amelie by Gracie Abrams.

(Play Amelie by Gracie Abrams)

As soon as it started playing, it reminded me of you, the way you made me feel grounded, in a world where nothing else could. The way that you made me constantly feel at home, and even the way that you left me. It's not like it was intentional, was it? Was I only caring about myself when you needed me most? This is what happened with most people in my life. I'm too greedy and selfish, then, everybody would leave me, and the worst part is, I wouldn't blame them. They should leave me, what have I ever done to make you want to stay? But you did anyway. I'm not sure why, but you did.

And even though it hurts to remember what I lost, it's still nice to remember what I had, when I had it.

And so, before I knew it, two hours had passed. But now that I've fallen head first back into reality, each moment felt like a century, yet, at the same time, it felt so fleeting. As though every moment was disappearing without a moment's notice. Gone as soon as it came. Yet I wanted it to be over. I wanted it to be over and it hasn't even started, but I tried to have an open mind, I always did, but it never worked out in my favor. Nothing ever does.

God, that felt selfish to say, but it also felt so true. I wish it didn't, I hated being selfish, even though I had a nasty habit of doing so.

So I stayed silent for most of the first two hours there. My only distraction being my music. It was the only thing that grounded me, in a world where everything made me feel like I was floating outside my body. Now, some people portray this as a good thing.

I don't.

I actually find it quite baffling that anyone would. It doesn't feel like your soaring out of your body because of happiness, no. It more so feels like you're as light as a feather, meaningless to the world. So, you go up and up, until you can't go any higher, and the only thing worse than going up, is going down.

You could feel the air whipping through you as your soaring down at full speed, unable to stop it. Until you land, and when you do, you crumple on the ground in a broken heap, unable to move. Unable to speak. Unable to breathe. Was that how I constantly felt? As though I'm in a constant cycle of crashing and burning? I wasn't sure. I can't really be sure of anything anymore.

But it wasn't until Tara pointed out how stressed I looked was when I realized how much anxiety I had bottled up. Waiting to burst at any given moment.

"Hey, you okay? You seem a bit tense." "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for asking though." I wasn't fine, but it was nice that someone besides you or my family was looking out for me. "Okay, well if you want, you can borrow this book I'm reading, it helps to distract you if your stressed. Plus it's really good, so it's kind of a win-win." said Tara as she handed me the book she was reading. It was called Radio Silence, it looked brilliant, so it's not like I could really turn it down.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." I said with gratitude. "No problem, hope you like it!" said Tara. So after she said that, I started reading, and it was truly brilliant. I was so absorbed in the story, that I almost didn't even realize that we arrived in Paris until we did. The tall, magnificent buildings were the only thing giving away that we even arrived.

All I could do was stare in awe of how beautiful it was, and it makes me think how you just might've picked the perfect place to die. So, I grabbed my suitcase, and went with my group inside the hotel. We made the occasional conversation, but nothing too grand. Maybe I could try to get to know them better over dinner.

So, then we get our hotel room number from Mr. Farouk. "Alright, your girl's room is 317. I'm in 403 if you need me, but hopefully you won't." Then I snickered as we took the elevator up to our room.

...317...317...317, why did that sound so familiar?

"Which floor?" asked Elle. "3" I responded while pressing 3 on the wide display of buttons, and as we were going up, Elle asked "So, why did you move here?" I froze, immediately trying to find an answer to the question, and when I can't come up with something fake, I decide to tell the truth.

"Because I was bullied really bad at my old school, I guess I just couldn't take it anymore." "Wow, I'm really sorry. It's hard, it really is. The constant feeling that your not good enough. Like, everything that they're saying is true." I smiled and nodded, glad that someone finally, just gets it. Someone that finally understands the pain.

And as we reach our floor, it all seems so familiar, in a way that... it's almost like you've been here before.

And as soon as we open our hotel room door, I immediately know why.

Why? Because it was the same hotel room.

(Just play the rest of the song)