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Believing is Seeing.

Short story By: lauricula
Young adult



Emma struggles with a mental illness and no one understands, especially her perfect best friend Holly. Emma is prepared to do whatever it takes to get rid of the illness.


Submitted:Nov 20, 2012    Reads: 43    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   


"Emma!" my best friend, Holly, shouted from my bedroom.

"What!" I yelled back, as I put down the straightening iron on my bathroom counter; my chocolate brown hair falling to the middle of my stomach.

"Where's your berry lip gloss?" she asked; I could hear her rummaging through my make-up.

I sighed. I love Holly dearly, but she had a knack for just helping herself to my things. It's not that I hated sharing, I didn't have a problem with letting my friends borrow what they needed, but I hated when they helped themselves to what they wanted, without asking.

"It's in the bathroom, with me." I retorted, hoping she would catch the trace of annoyance in my voice.

I heard her feet pad down the hallway to meet me and my berry lip gloss. Holly flashed me her perfect smile, and planted a kiss on my cheek. "Thanks" she said sweetly.

She stood next to me at the mirror and began applying the lip gloss. I took this moment to really observe my best friend, like I had a million times before. Holly was practically perfect, in my eyes. Black, wavy hair that fell neatly around her shoulders, big amber eyes and pale, blemish free skin. She was short, and went to the gym regularly, giving her a toned body.

"So, I have to look perfect for when we go out tonight. Derek is going to be there, and if I don't look incredible, he's not going to want me back." She said was a mischievous smile.

Normally, I would say okay, and continue tuning out Holly's blabber about Derek, but I was feeling rather annoyed and decided to be honest.

"Holly. Don't you think you should give up on Derek? I mean, you're smart, you're funny, you're caring and all Derek notices you for is your good looks. Why don't you find someone who likes you for you? Not your tight mini-skirts and belly ring." I said rather bluntly.

Holly looked at me, taken aback. I thought she was going to be mad. But instead, she started crying. "You're right Emma, it's just, I love Derek, you know? I just want him to love me too." She wailed, now sinking to my bathroom floor.

I sat down next to her, wrapping my arms around her. "But Holly, what's the point of wanting him to love you, if the only thing he loves is how you look?" I whispered into her head.

She didn't say anything; she just sat there letting the tears fall. Holly was my best friend, but her problems tended to be shallow. They were always about a new friend who was talking bad about her, or a guy she liked that hadn't called her back. I'm not saying she's a shallow person, because she's not. It's just her problems that were shallow. Maybe it was because I didn't have friends to talk bad about me, or I didn't get boys' attention, so I didn't know what it felt like to be upset over these things.

Holly finally stopped crying and stood up. "Thanks for putting up with me, Em. You're such a good friend." She hugged me before going back to my bedroom.

I closed the bathroom door, and this time, it was my turn to sink to the floor. I closed my eyes and sighed. The sinking feeling in my stomach was back again, and I suddenly didn't want to go out. I wanted to stay at home and lay in bed forever, but I couldn't. Boys and make-up and parties weren't important to me. Getting through this never ending pain was. Some days, it was unbearable; that was when I would lay in bed and stare at my wall. I would cry for what seemed to be no reason at all. I would ignore my phone, and instead spend my days on the computer, socializing without leaving my bed. There were days where I wasn't hungry, and so I wouldn't eat. Then there were days where I felt okay; I felt like I could get through the day. I usually say Holly on those days, and even left my bed.

I never talked to Holly about this, because I felt like she wouldn't understand. I didn't talk to anyone about this actually. It was a secret. I never talked about the panic attacks that haunted my nights, and the rain cloud that always seemed to be over my head. I couldn't mention I was sad without hearing from Holly to suck it up and all I needed was some fresh air, or to hang out with actual people. She just didn't get it.

I hated to do this, but I had no choice. I'm sorry Holly. "Hey, Hol!" I called from behind the closed door.

"Yeah?" her voice sounding distant.

"I'm uh- I'm not going to the party. I don't feel good. I'm sorry." I really was.

I could hear sigh, before she responded. "Fine." She knew I was lying, but she saw no point in arguing with me. "But you know, just because you don't like people doesn't mean you can hide away from the world forever." She said as she walked down the stairs and out the front door.

I let out a sigh of relief, and stood up. I opened the mirror to reveal a cabinet, and pulled out a pill bottle. I opened it and pulled out a tiny, silver object. I rolled up my sleeve and saw the plethora of scars on my arm. No one knew about this either. I pressed the razor against my wrist, and dragged it across my skin. I could feel the skin break open, as beads of blood surfaced. The sinking feeling in my stomach went away, and I felt okay again.

I realized though, that it wasn't enough. The sinking feeling came right back, and so I did it again. I kept cutting and cutting, until the room was fading, and the light seemed far away. I could feel my body leaving this world, and Holly didn't even know. I realized this was what I always wanted; to die. I felt happy for the first time in my life. Ironic though, seeing as I was pretty much dead. I thought I had finally left, when I hear a blood curdling scream that seemed miles away.

I woke up to someone crying, and squeezing my hand. I blinked a couple of times, before realizing I was in the hospital. There was the beeping of the heart monitor, and I was being given blood and fluids by an IV. The room was bright, and it hurt my eyes. I squinted, and saw it was Holly who was crying and squeezing my hand. Shit.

When she saw I was awake, she wasted no time apologizing. "Emma, sweetie, I'm so sorry. I didn't- Hiccup- I didn't know this is why you weren't coming to the party. And all those times I told you to suck it up, this is what you did. You almost died Emma. But I came back because I decided I wasn't letting you stay home and-" She broke down into uncontrollable sobs, and let go of my hand.

Holly knew, but she still didn't understand. She never would. I needed to die; it was the only way to get rid of this depression.





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