Title:Subtitle Part 2

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Continuation of Title:Subtitle

I would like to believe that every person has a meaning or reason to live. The thought that everyone is born with a purpose just feels too easy to be true though. How do you live your life knowing that you don’t really matter, knowing that no matter what you do it’s all pointless. Where do you find energy and motivation to push through hard times when they circle back almost immediately. 


“So today we are going to be talking about mental illnesses, more specifically we’re talking about depression.” the teacher spoke with a blank tone. It was understandable, he had probably said that four other times today, and probably hundreds of other times throughout the years. 


Sam liked health class more than the other subjects she was taking, she appreciated how the teacher didn’t give a lot of quizzes or tests. Today was different though, she felt like the teacher was saying everything directly to her, and all her classmates' eyes were on her. It was a weird feeling because she knew he wasn’t talking to her and no one was really looking at her, but she still felt overwhelmed. Sam raised her hand.


“Can I go to the bathroom?” Sam said with a slight twinge of urgency. It was probably mistaken for actually having to use the bathroom pretty badly. 


“Can you go after I’m done talking? It’s not much longer.” he said with the same emptiness. 


“Yeah whatever.” There was clear annoyance in her voice, but her teacher ignored it. Sam didn’t pay attention, but she could still hear key words. Suicide, depression, loneliness. Everytime Sam heard one of these words her heart dropped, it was like she was being accused of something every time they were said.


After the lesson finished Sam rushed to the bathroom. Sam never had a problem with suicide or anything really, but something about it today just felt awful. It wasn’t the fact that it just was suicide, it was that she didn’t have to imagine those feelings. It would be a lie to say she never once thought about killing herself but it was more about what would happen after it, how her family would be or what people would say about her. That thought was really funny to Sam, because why should she care what people say about her after she killed herself. It didn’t matter though because she knew she would never take her own life, the feelings were still there though. She still felt sick, and as she got closer to the bathroom she felt worse and worse. As soon as she got in she ran to the toilet and threw up. Sam knew she wasn’t sick, but she didn’t want to be in school anymore. She grabbed her things from class and went to the nurse. 


Sam had only met the nurse a few times but she knew she was a nice lady. She had no reason to not like the nurse, when she thought about it that was how she felt towards a lot of people. She reached the nurse’s office, she opened the door and walked in. 


“Hey Sam, is everything ok?” She talked cheerfully in a way that most people would find charming, but Sam thought it was just annoying. 


“No, not really. I just threw up in the bathroom. Can I just go home? I feel really sick.” Sam tried her best to talk with a fake sick voice. 


The nurse stood up and took her temperature, it was a perfect 98. As she sat back down Sam saw her name plaque. Jessica Anderson, School Nurse. Sam wondered how she didn’t even know her name.


“Are you sure you’re sick, your temperature is fine.” 


“Yeah I just don’t feel we-”


“What class were you in before you came here?”


“Um, health, why?”


“What was the lesson?”


“Y’know just...health stuff.”


Sam felt nervous, she didn’t want to talk about how she really felt. She would much rather just go back to class than talk.


“You know what I actually feel better, I’ll just go back.” She said as she walked towards the door. 


“Don’t leave yet” the nurse said with a concerned sounding voice. Sam stopped in her tracks as if the words were controlling her. Her heart rate sped up and she was actually starting to sweat a little bit. The mere thought of talking with the nurse was scarier than it should have been. Sam could see her brown hair covering her view, she brushed it away and turned around. 




“What were you talking about in health class?” 


“Why is it such a big deal? I dont get why I still have to be here!” Sam said that way too loud, but the nurse didn’t say anything. She was just staring at the student in front of her who clearly needed help with something, she was determined to find out what was wrong. It was her job to do so after all. 


“If you don’t tell me I’ll just call down and ask.” She said as she reached for her school phone and started dialing.


“Ok ok I’ll tell you, don’t call. We were talking about depression, and suicide, and...and whatever.” Sam’s voice betrayed her. The nurse heard the clear quavering in her voice. She stood up and walked toward the door. She opened the door and flipped the sign saying open. She closed the door and locked it, she then sat down on a couch and pointed to the one opposite her. 


Submitted: November 10, 2021

© Copyright 2021 PeachCobbler. All rights reserved.

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