I sat in the back of the art room, glaring daggers at the door. Those girls would have to come back eventually, we had double art and we weren't even halfway through. I sighed and let my pencil wander absentmindedly over my page. Soon a drawing appeared there - a cartoon to be specific. It gained the shape of a boy, with angular features and a blank stare, and then it was holding a gun - pressed against its temple. I jerked back at that - since when had I started drawing suicidal characters? I flipped the page over, not wanting to look at it anymore. The girls didn't come back, so with five minutes to go I shoved my stuff in my bag and headed out of the class.
It was sheer luck I found my phone - kicked halfway under one of the lockers in the downstairs corridor. By some miracle it wasn't cracked, but the girls must have discarded it once it switched itself off. I brushed it off and followed the wave of students swarming towards the front gates, and filed onto the bus headed "Manly, Red Beach and Orewa". I slid into a window seat near the back, pulled out my head phones and plugged them into my phone, letting Sleeping With Sirens blast my eardrums as the bus pulled away from school.
...
"Hi Mum", I called, walking through the back door of our small townhouse an hour later.
"Hi Sweetie", she called, and I could tell by the way her voice echoed she was on the computer. I walked into the spare room where the computer lived, and my mum turned around, greeting me with the usual smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"How was your day, Hun?" She asked, and I replied with my usual "Fine thanks."
"That's good", she smiled again and then turned serious.
"Karla, sweetie", she began, and I instantly racked my brains for what I'd done wrong this time.
What she said next was totally unexpected.
"I'm taking you to the hospital tomorrow. You need some blood work done."
"What!" I shrieked. "Why?!"
"Because", she said gently, "Your teachers are concerned about you, and so am I. You're displaying all the signs of depression in a teenager, and your school dean and I have agreed that its best if we get you checked out."
Is she fucking serious? She's only noticing now? Well fuck.
"There's nothing wrong with me!" I yelled. I don't really know where the anger came from, but it was there, and I wasn't about to bother fighting it.
"Karla, sweetie", my mum stood up, taking a step towards me with a sympathetic look on her face. Unfortunately that only increased my rage.
"I'm not like you!" I screamed, anger threatening to turn into tears. "I don't have a mental illness, I'm not IN - FUCKING - SANE!!"
Damn.
My mum took another step forwards, her eyes filling with tears.
"You don't care about me!" I yelled, taking a hasty step back.
"You only want me because I'm the only thing keeping you alive!"
It was true. My mum had often told me this, and I believed her. She had no one but me, and that's why I knew I had to get out before I said something terrible - if I hadn't already.
"Karla, please", my mum whispered. "I love you, and I only want what's best for you"
But I couldn't take it anymore. Tears clouded my vision, and I turned and ran out the door. She would never see me cry. I was supposed to be the strong one. I fled from the house without a backward glance, ignoring my mothers panicked yell of my name. A ran as fast as I could - out the gates and down the driveway- not caring where I was going. The tears that had threatened to fall were gone, replace by the errant desire to scream and punch something.
Before I knew where I was going I felt the familiar crunch of sand under my combat boots, and looked up to be greeted with the beautiful - and calming - sight of the sea.
I walked along the beach, muttering to myself and kicking things until the anger was gone, replaced instead with a hollow long for human company.
It was high tide, so when I got to the far end of the beach by the estuary outlet, I climbed up onto the man made rock pile and walked along it to the end, where I was surrounded by the roaring breakwater.
What if I jumped? I could probably kill myself - I definitely could - but I didn't want to drown. I sighed in frustration. Why odd I deny the fact that I might have a mental illness? It's as clear as day that I do - that hollow, empty feeling, the self-loathing, not being able to focus in school - all symptoms of depression. Not to mention the wreck of my arms. I knew the scars would never fade, and part of me hated that. But another part of me was proud - they were my battle scars, they gave me strength to keep going. Is that wrong? I inhaled deeply, and began to sing the first song that came to mind - Helena. Soon enough, I had completely lost myself in the beauty of the song - nothing could get to me now. I watched as the dark waters swirled beneath me, the wind whipping across the rugged ocean as I sang the last line.
Then someone coughed behind me, and I turned so fast I tripped on a crag in the rock. I barely had time to register the face of Gerard standing there before I was falling - backwards down the rock face, towards the surging, grey waters.

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Notes

Hello there, I guess my promise of a chapter a day has gone out the metaphorical window. Oh well :3

hope all you wonderful American people don't mind my good ol' Kiwi spelling, but I don't change who I am for anyone, so, yeeah... :3

:-{)~ look it has a moustache c: *o*

lets play a little game ;)
if this chapter gets five comments or three subscribers Ill post the next one :P

happy reading lovely people!

comment, rate, subscribe, pleeeeaaasssseeeeee :3