Writing Challenge - Day 7
To all who are reading this,
Day seven on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This proved to be the most cathartic flash fiction piece so far, and I was in a bad place when I wrote it.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the seventh story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
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ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 7. - POISON
When I was diagnosed with depression in my teens, I didn't tell any of my friends. Every time I took my medication, I would tell them it was pain killers and laugh it off. Smiling was painful for me. Every laugh was forced out of me. I would make excuses for not going out with them on an evening, and buried myself in my home and coursework. I found solace in horror films and fantasy novels. When I was around my friends, I thought that any minute, the mask would slip and they would see me for who I really was. A sad, lonely girl. I always felt like the odd one out in our group - not too smart, not too stupid. Not fat, nor thin. I felt like the spare wotsit at the wedding when I was around them. Every single time. And I was useless with relationships too. I looked at other couples sprawled in the fields, cuddling and kissing their lunch breaks away. I saw love and light in their eyes as they stared deep into each others souls, whilst all I could do was dream of the day when someone would hold me, brush the hair from my eyes and tell me everything was going to be okay. Nobody saw the scars that adorned the tops of my legs, not even when changing for P.E. I'd turn, act embarrassed and things would go back to normal. Nobody saw the cryptic entries in my private journal or in my school planner. They thought my horrific art coursework was dark and fantastical. How could they see that they were expressions of my inner-most feelings? Nobody seemed to care if I looked remotely sad - they were more interested in who was going out with who, if anyone was pregnant, and other gossip. Everyday I spent at school was torture. I often thought about ending it, just letting the knife or the razor blade slip whilst I had a bath. All the poison would slip out and then I'd be free. Gemma looked up from the crumpled paper in her hands. The fear she had first experienced when she joined the mental health group had now disappeared. People supported each other in their problems, because everyone had them, in one way or another. Whether it was depression or an eating disorder, they could talk about their problems openly and not be worried about the consequences. Here she was going to survive. She wasn't going to let the poison win. Not this time.THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013)Currently reading: Underworld by Meg Cabot
Day seven on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This proved to be the most cathartic flash fiction piece so far, and I was in a bad place when I wrote it.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the seventh story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 7. - POISON
When I was diagnosed with depression in my teens, I didn't tell any of my friends. Every time I took my medication, I would tell them it was pain killers and laugh it off. Smiling was painful for me. Every laugh was forced out of me. I would make excuses for not going out with them on an evening, and buried myself in my home and coursework. I found solace in horror films and fantasy novels. When I was around my friends, I thought that any minute, the mask would slip and they would see me for who I really was. A sad, lonely girl. I always felt like the odd one out in our group - not too smart, not too stupid. Not fat, nor thin. I felt like the spare wotsit at the wedding when I was around them. Every single time. And I was useless with relationships too. I looked at other couples sprawled in the fields, cuddling and kissing their lunch breaks away. I saw love and light in their eyes as they stared deep into each others souls, whilst all I could do was dream of the day when someone would hold me, brush the hair from my eyes and tell me everything was going to be okay. Nobody saw the scars that adorned the tops of my legs, not even when changing for P.E. I'd turn, act embarrassed and things would go back to normal. Nobody saw the cryptic entries in my private journal or in my school planner. They thought my horrific art coursework was dark and fantastical. How could they see that they were expressions of my inner-most feelings? Nobody seemed to care if I looked remotely sad - they were more interested in who was going out with who, if anyone was pregnant, and other gossip. Everyday I spent at school was torture. I often thought about ending it, just letting the knife or the razor blade slip whilst I had a bath. All the poison would slip out and then I'd be free. Gemma looked up from the crumpled paper in her hands. The fear she had first experienced when she joined the mental health group had now disappeared. People supported each other in their problems, because everyone had them, in one way or another. Whether it was depression or an eating disorder, they could talk about their problems openly and not be worried about the consequences. Here she was going to survive. She wasn't going to let the poison win. Not this time.THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013)Currently reading: Underworld by Meg Cabot
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