Depression hurts, we all know that. So how does this happen? How does one so easily get to know the feeling of depression?
Past:
When I was younger, about 6 years old, my dad died. I never really knew him as well as I should have, because he was always on business trips. One night he was supposed to come home, but he didn't. I remember that night, I helped my mom set the table. We placed sweet, smelling, vanilla candles, and some of our best china on that table, ready for the family to sit down. As my mother and I waited for my dad to walk in, while we were at the table, the phone rang. Thinking it was him, my mom rushed to grab the phone. And that's when it all went bad.
The person on the phone was the police. Apparently my father had gotten into a car accident. As my mother sat at the table talking to the police, I'll never forget the face she made. She was so devastated, and of course very sad. My mom hung up the phone, and just sat at the table. Blank face, didn't move a muscle. I thought maybe she was in shock, so I didn't think much of it. That was until she picked up one of the china plates, and threw it against the floor. She still had that blank look in her face, but with a little twist of anger. I'll never be able to forget the look in her eyes, as she slowly turned her face to look at mine, with a plate held in her hand. For the first time in my life, I was scared of my mom. I didn't know what to do, so I ran. I ran as far as I could, never looked back to see what I was leaving behind.
Present:
I'm not the normal average teen girl that you see in the movies. In fact, some might say I'm the complete opposite. I'm the kind of girl that's more the "Tomboy" type, but still cares about her looks. I wear skinny jeans with converse shoes, and shirts with slogans on them. I almost always have my dark Auburn hair down, with bangs covering part of my eye. Many people call me "Emo" but I don't really care what they think. I only care what I think. My name is Alana and if you really knew me, you would know I love to smile, and have a bubbly personality...Or so I used to.
After I left my mom, I went to live with my grandmother. In grade 8 I met my best friend Bridget and lived with her ever since. I haven't seen my mother in over 9 years, I haven't heard from her, or if anything happened to her. And oddly I'm okay with that, 'cause ever since that night I have been afraid of her.
I've never really ever had a family, but I have had friends. Just a few days ago all that changed, and now I have nothing.
Few days Earlier:
I was walking down the street to Bridget's house, which is also mine since I have been living with her for years. I could taste the bubblegum in my mouth as I noticed the things on this street I never really noticed before. I guess I was just so thankful that Bridget took me into her home, I never really looked at my surroundings. But now I noticed the details of where I lived.
There is absolutely no kids on this block, and no friendly animals. You could hear the gates shrilling as they opened to a yard of dead-grass, rough surfaces such as rust, and spine-chilling houses. To tell you the truth, it scared me, that I lived in these surroundings. As I kept walking almost at the house, I would pass houses where you heard doors shutting, and howling from wolves that weren't there. You could smell that old, decayed smell that you really don't like, and if you stood still for just a millisecond it was like you could feel the presence of the deceased. As I started walking again it started to pour. All I could hear until I got to the house was the rain on the pavement. But when I got to the house I heard screams, I rushed inside, my heart-pounding rappidly in only a few seconds, scared of what I might see... and then I saw them. Bridget's mom was beating her up while her dad sat on the couch watching hockey. It didn't make sence to me, many different thoughts were rushing through my head giving me painful headaches. Thoughts like 'Why would her mom do this? More importantly, why was her dad not doing anything about it, and just watching tv? They always seemed like such a loving family. I quickly whipped out my cell phone to call the police, sirens from the hockey players getting goals on the tv, seemed as if they were sirens from an ambulance. My headache growing worse, and worse, as I was trying to calm down even a little bit to talk to the police. As I told them to hurry, Bridget's mom said to her "You deserve this" And her dad just sat there laughing.
I will never understand that night. I will never understand why Bridget told me to leave when I saw her mom doing that to her. I wont understand why, when the police came, Bridget and her parents acted like nothing happened and said everything was fine, when clearly it wasn't. When we all went to bed, the only thing I could hear was the screams replaying from earlier that night, and the sniffles from Bridget as she cried herself to sleep. I don't think I've ever really cried before because I remember my dad would always say "Stay strong, you little trooper." I've never really cried that is, till the next night.
When I got home from school the next day. Bridget wasn't there. We normally would walk home together, but she told me she had business to do. I figured "Okay, she's probably got homework she needs to do with a friend" I didn't think much of it, till I turned on the T.V. Bridget's parents weren't home. They left a note on the table telling her they went out to get groceries. So when I turned on the T.V. I was all alone. This family doesn't watch the news often because they think it's boring, but I like to stay current with the events that are happening in the world. So I turned on the tv, and saw her name. "Bridget Yangwood's body was found in the river under the city bridge"-The news reporter stated glumly. "Many think she had been pushed, others say she jumped." But me, I knew the truth. She felt depressed and wanted to get rid of that feeling. I didn't know what depression felt like until this day. And for the first time in my life, I had myself a good cry. I could now officially say, I had no one.
Back to Present:
I had decided that I would go back and live with my Grandma since Bridget was no longer an option. For the next few days I just felt so depressed and alone. I could only imagine how many other kids committed suicide like Bridget had. I couldn't take the sadness any longer. There had already been too much in my life. So I decided to start a charity.
This charity is for all the teens that have been abused and couldn't take it any longer. No one deserves a punishment as big as taking their own life. You know, I've always been curious about which things in my life I care about. Now I know, that the whole time it was Bridget and my Dad who I cared about. I guess you don't really know you care, until they're gone.
