All in the End
Author's note: My brother inspired me to write this piece, Matthew, he was dealing with depression. And I tried... Show full author's note »
Love DiesI imagine a girl, a strong girl who can take people down. Not a mean girl but someone who doesn’t care what other people think. That girl isn’t sick she hasn’t been sick for two years. This girl is perfect, and perfect is what everyone wants.
I wake up from the sound of books slamming. And blue and brown eyes from my classmates. The only thing I hear is laughter and pointing. At me. The girl with long brown hair and a tint of caramel highlights. With blue bright eyes that people can see a mile away. Some people would call me, Samantha Lockwell, pretty. But at Kingston High. You can’t just be pretty you have to be outgoing. The problem is I have been sick for two years with... depression. The kind of depression that you have to admit because you’re too quiet.
When I realize that people are still staring at me. I try to hide myself between my books. Yeah, like I thought that would work. When the bell rings, “I say thank the lord!” And run out the classroom before the Mr. White can stop me. Mr. White was the most difficult teacher in the school. He has pale white skin that reflects off his dark black hair. His eyes are the color of seaweed. The kind of seaweed that would wrap you around your ankles, and bring you under. But the worst part is, he assigns the most homework. Like one time I had to finish a 200 page book in one night. And write a 500 word essay about it the next day.
While I walk down the hallway: I’m suppose to see all my friends laughing and talking to me. But this girl doesn’t have friends. In the end of 8th grade two of my best friends moved to California. And all the rest stopped talking to me. Because quote on quote “Samantha is weird, and she’s acting different.” I couldn’t blame them. That is when my depression started. When I finally reach my locker. My eyesight goes black, and the only thing I can make out is a scream. But I didn’t scream.
I open my eyes, and I see three things. Me on the ground with a guy on top of me, people surrounding us, and my locker wide open. While I try to get up, the guy on top of me, gives me his hand to pull me up. This guy was different. I’ve never seen him before. He has dusty brown hair, with dark blonde highlights. Sparkling green eyes, and piercing lips. When I reach out for his hand, it’s soft and warm. I’ve never had contact with anybody in a long time. When I started to get sad and make bad choices, I stopped talking to people. Even my family, I never let my mom have any “loving contact” with me. I did with my dad.
“Hey I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you like that.” the boy said. “Oh umm it’s fine.” I said. “Like legit I am new here, and I got called to the office, and I might well say, I was scared.” He said in a cute funny voice. “It’s alright I just should of saw you in the first place.” “Are you kidding, no it’s my fault. Oh by the way my name is Austin Cole.” “Hi, my name is Samantha Lockwell.” I said in a sad voice. “Are you okay well, Sam? I mean you don’t sound or look so good.” he said in a nice soft voice. I didn’t know what he meant? Well when you put it like that... I am a little skinny. I'm not anorexic or anything. I just try to eat really healthy. I just want to look my best in the outside. Cause my inside is pretty messed up. “Samatha, not Sam. Don’t call me Sam.” I said in a demanding voice. Oh I’m sorry, I just make up nicknames for people I guess.” His face was red, I felt kind of bad. It’s his first day and he created a scene by bumping into me. But no! He doesn’t have any right going around making up nicknames for people. And especially me, Sam. It just makes me remember more of my d-d-d dad. “Sorry, I just didn’t mean it. I mean I meant it but not in that way. Like I just can’t handle anybody saying that. Because well because. Nevermind you don’t have to know.” I said uncontrollably fast. “Hey Samantha I really didn’t know. It seems like you’re going through something. Hey if you want to talk. We can talk.” Okay now I was angry. “I don’t need help. And not from you!” I said. “Okay, sorry. Well I guess my first day of school didn’t go the best.” Austin said. Hahaha he’s funny. He’s thinks I’m one of those girls that will just thirst for sweet talk. Well that’s not me. “Hey excuse me, it’s a Friday and I have a lot of my friends waiting for me. And this little conversation is wasting my time. So you should leave. Remember you have to go to the office.” “Yeah, well okay see you.” he said in a depressing voice. I didn’t say another word. He left and I was alone. Oh great I missed my bus.
I got home, after my three mile walk home. It was winter and winter in Washington is cold. I could’ve asked my mom to pick me up, but we don’t talk. I run up to my room, and think about what has happened today. I have been doing this for a year now. I think it’s a good way to see if anything good happened today. And possibly fix my depression. I thought about my morning; first I had Art, okay that was boring. Than other subjects that never had any interest in me. The only thing I could think about is the end of the day. When I bumped into Austin, Austin Cole. I love how his name tasted in my mouth. Wait, what am I doing? Austin, ew I hated him. How could he just call me Sam like that? But that didn’t worry me. The thing was, how did he know that I was sad? Nobody and I mean nobody at Kingston High ever worried about me. Or even asked why I was sad. And it was kind of cute how he cared for me. Like he wasn’t ugly he was super kind of hot. Some people at my school would probably give him a 9. But why would he ever go out with me? And the problem is I don’t like him. However I’ve gone to a couple of doctors that told me love is the answer. When you find love, and share it. It will make me happy and get rid of my depression. Tears started to come down from my face. Then more and more tears. The only thing I wanted is my depression to go away. “I hated it more than anything”, I screamed on the top of my lungs. I started to knock down things out of my room. I started ripping up my pillows. Looking through my draws for the pills that I’ve been taking for 6 months. They weren’t antidepressant. I was being overwhelmed and taking over dose pills. I was messed up. “I am messed up”, I screamed louder! I start looking at picture frames and throwing them against the wall. While I get to a picture of my dad. My mom opens the door and says, “Samantha!! what's wrong put that picture down!!” I look at her and then me in the mirror, I looked horrible, I have black running down my face from my makeup. Cuts all over my hands from the glass. Then I look at my mother, she was scared. More than me. I put the picture frame down. And start crying and talking. Not just talking but confessing. I say that I’ve been taking pills for 6 months. That I want my depression to be over with. I’ve never said anything like this to my mom before. But I had to, I was scared. I was scared that my depression would get too extreme and I would kill myself.
For the past two weeks, I haven't been in school. My mom and I were at doctors appointments every single second. Every doctor we went to they said the same thing: “The medicine we have for you, won’t work in your condition. You have damaged many parts of your brain. The only thing that works is time.” The problem is my depression wasn’t started by generics are influenced by drugs. It was because of a lost in the family. And the only medicine is time, it happened two years ago. It was just a normal sunny summer morning at the Lockwell’s house. Well, almost normal. My mom came home from work and she had a worried look on her face. I asked her “What’s wrong?” And they only thing she said was “It’s dad.” When I heard it was about my dad I leaped out of the chair I was sitting on. And went toward my mom. I asked, “What? What’s wrong, is he back from his business trip?” “He never got on his plane.” my mom said crying. “Mom just spit it out already, what is wrong with dad.” I screamed “When he was getting on his plane, there was a shooting and he got shot.” “Wait, what, no! Is he okay? Come on he’s okay.” “No, he got shot right in the heart. And well he he.” That’s the only thing I needed to hear. My dad the one that I was the closest to. The one that called me Sam. Got murdered. He was an innocent man. I love my dad, and now he’s gone. I screamed and shouted, I yelled. I cursed every word I knew. At that point I wanted to find the man, who has killed my father. And make him pay.
After two months, my dad left this world. I started to get quieter. I couldn't focus on school anymore. I felt more sad, each and everyday. For one year I cried myself to sleep thinking about him. I felt responsible for my father. I couldn't dread that I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.