Black, White, and Grays
Description
GREETINGS
It's been a long time since I last wrote a story and fortunately, I'm inspired enough to write another one. I don't really know when or how this story's gonna end since I'm writing it in real time (will be catching up from last year's happenings so...).
I actually think this story's not gonna end well as far as I'm concerned but I hope everyone gets excited whenever I update. A minimal of two and maximum of three updates in two to three weeks (or as much as I can) since I'm busy with my reality.
Also! Thank you so much to the shop that made my poster. CLICK HERE for the shop if you lovedit!
DISCLAIMER
The said characters in this story isn't gonna be me or the people around me. Instead, I'm gonna use idols', actors' and even comedians' names as I want my real world people to feel private-ish.
Also, some of my lines might sound fabricated but I wouldn't care less since every story in this site is made up with 26 letters (28 for some) and so, please don't bother your selves just to please your favorite author. Every line and every plot in every chapter are most likely my own interpretation of the happenings of my life only.
Have fun reading and comment something on every stories you read. It motivates us, writers, to write more when people encourage us.
Thank you and enjoy your tea!
Foreword
Anxiety
Depression
Suicidal
Her handphone's been ringing all day, not answering every single call from her friends. She deactivated every Social Networking Site accounts she owns and just ran an anonymous blog full with her depression and anxious stories. The more her fingers moves in front of her keboard, the more animosity she feels for her self.
Her desk's a mess: Untouched food her mother brought to her room every day and night. Cotton balls full of removed eyeliner from her eyes as she practices her own make up. A half empty glass of water. Canned soda. A box of cigarette.
Few wounds both on her hands as she tried to cut a little every time she feels like suicidal. A broken ballpen and ripped notebooks. Her room's as messy as her mind. Basically, for her, her room represents her mind. It's messy. It needs a clean up but she couldn't bother because it'll end up like dirty and messy again. Her life's a clock, a cycle she can't get off because she's just meant to circle like that.
A huff of cigarette to calm her down. She lies down on her bed and closes her eyes.
She imagines a house that is black, white and in grays.
In her mind, in her imagination, she knows the way around the house too well. Maybe because she's been in there for years, maybe for a decade or two. She sits on her favorite couch to look outside the window and watch people be happy, be with someone and be carefree... which she will never be again. For her, the outside world is wonderful. It is full of mysteries. Full of happiness. She tried to step outside once, twice, thrice... many times. Until someone made her feel special and ruined her by the end of the day. She threw away the key outside and forgot about it. She forgot every colors she will feel when she's outside her depressing, full of anxiety, world.
To her, black is depression, gray is anxiety and white is suicide. And that home is her mind.
To her, her mind is upsetting, empty as her heart.
Till someone came along, found the key and made her take a step forward out of her zone.
She thought to her self, "I'm not ready to get hurt again..."
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