My mom noticed my withdrawal that night at dinner. She poked and prodded me, trying to get me to talk. All I did was stare of into space and hope for escape from the table. I ate a slice of bread and excused myself, complaining of cramps. “Alright…good night honey.” My mom said. But I knew she didn’t really care. Nobody cared. I was just a waste of space. I cried myself to sleep that night. I still didn’t do my homework. I didn’t shower either. I knew that I should have, but I just couldn’t. While I lay in my bed, I looked at my laptop glowing through the haze of my tears on my desk. I was seriously messed up; I was blaming my laptop for destroying me. I felt that if I had never been so curious and insisted on ‘researching’ I could have been oblivious. Now I had all of these horrible images of myself in my head. I saw myself as a freak wearing a straight jacket. I saw a weirdo sitting on a shrink’s sofa talking about my feelings. I saw a mocked child that was too scared to take control over herself. But I never saw myself as a scared, mis-informed, depressed teenage girl. Sad part is…that’s exactly what I was. I didn’t go to school the next day. Or the next day. Or the day after that. I didn’t have the energy…plus, I just didn’t care enough. But my parents never noticed. Not once did they come to check on me or even take my temperature or something. My mom and dad didn’t even know WHY I was staying home from school. My sisters were no better. I was just left alone. I wish I wasn’t. Those couples of days were the beginning of the worst time of my teenage life. Not even singing helped. I was in chorus in school, but the choir sucked and everyone was mean to me. I went to school the following Monday. It was horrible, I got through two periods and was exhausted. I just…couldn’t do it. I went to the nurse and (of course, the cure for everything—according to school nurses) she told me to lie down on one of those little hard cots. That was no help because it just left me alone to think quietly, I left within five minutes of being there. “Got a cold, dear?” The old nurse said as I walked out the door, sniffling along. I was basically cried out from the last couple of days, but I had still let a few tears escape and now I was congested. I hated that about crying. It gave me head aches and a stuffy nose. I also saw crying as a weakness, so I avoided it like toxic waste. “Uhh…no, not really.” I replied, startled by her genuine concern. It was the first little shroud of sincerity I had heard within the past week. “…then why you snifflin’?” She said, her head cocked to one side, immersed in my sniffles. Embarrassingly enough, I broke down right there. I cried right in front of someone I had seen 2 times before this moment. It was horrible. To make it even worse, she turned bright red…like she was embarrassed to be by a random, emotional girl or something. She rushed over to me and rubbed my back, telling me to go visit the guidance counselor. “Yeah right grandma, I ain’t seeing a shrink.” I said sharply. I could practically feel the acid from my harsh words burning my tongue. I felt really bad about it later. She looked at me with puzzled eyes and pushed me along down the hall. I could have pushed against her, I could have walked away. I could have easily over powered her. But even though I really didn’t want to go to see the guidance counselor, I didn’t stop her gentle hands from guiding me along. I knew that I needed to talk to him. I guess some self preservation was left in me. We finally reached the office and she stroked my hair, gave me a warm smile and turned to walk away. I was tearing up again. I walked in and saw my guidance counselor sitting at his desk, doing paperwork. He looked up, startled by my sudden appearance. (You’re supposed to call before you come to see him) “Can I help you?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “I need to t-talk to someone.” I stuttered. “Alright…” he replied, placing his work in a folder and putting it in a filing cabinet. “What’s up?” “I really don’t know. But I’m really scared” I huffed, sitting down. I was suddenly exhausted. “Scared of what?” He asked, intertwining his fingers together. “Myself.” Was my simple reply. “Myself.” I whimpered. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that I might need more then that.” I sighed deeply, getting ready to spill everything. I was ready to put all the cards on the table. “I’ve been having these feelings lately. Bad feelings…like, confusing and scary thoughts. I’m really scared of them.” “Can you tell me some of these thoughts, Zo?” He gently pressed me to say more. “Umm…well, I feel like…sad. I guess.” “Mmhm. So why does this sadness scare you?” “Because it won’t go away! It never leaves! It’s invading me and it. won’t. go. away.” I said with frustration. “I’m not the same person I used to be. I used to be normal.” “Hate to burst your bubble, Zo, but there’s no such thing as normal.” “Ha, yeah real funny…try telling that to normal people.” I scoffed. “In your own words, what is normal to you?” I thought for a minute. No one had ever asked me that. It surprised me and I couldn’t think of anything at first. “Normal is…happy. And pretty, smart and well taken care of. Normal people know what to say and when to say it. They take care of themselves and don’t complain. Normal people carry themselves with pride and don’t ever think about bad things. They don’t have theses feeling that I do. I’m not normal, that’s why.” “Zo, I’ll have you know that you just described someone who doesn’t exist. Everyone gets upset. Everyone is in secure about something. Plus, it would be totally irrational to be happy all the time. In fact, it would probably be really annoying to the people around them. Normal doesn’t exist.” “I think you’re bluffing…” “Now why would I do that?” He said with an innocent grin. “To get me to shut up” I mumbled, mostly to myself. “Pardon my hearing, what was that?” “Like you really care, you’re just here because it’s your job and you have to pay the bills somehow.” “Wrong again.” He retorted, almost defensively. “I’m here because I want to help people and I want to make a difference. Not because I’m getting paid, although it is a nice bonus to being able to do something I love.” He chuckled pleasantly. I just sat there and glared at his smiling face. He took my harshness and just threw it over his shoulder like it was nothing. It was meant to sting but I guess I failed. Again. “I’m just one big waste of space, aren’t I?” “Not at all, Zo. You are an intelligent young girl that has a world of great possibilities going for her. You could do some serious good in our little messed up home we call Earth.” I just groaned and prayed to get out of all this fake flattery. “I beg to differ. May I go now?” He looked disappointed in me. (Get in line, buddy, I thought to myself) His face fell a little bit. “Sure, fine, if you’re done talking now.” “I am. Thank you Mr. Schmidt.” I turned around and gathered my books. I stepped out of his office when the class period had just ended. Students were pouring into the halls. It became over crowded very quickly. I felt so alone in such a large ocean of people. I feel so cliché writing that, but it’s how I felt and I can’t describe it any other way. I shuffled to my locker, feeling like dirt. By the time I had gotten all of my things for my classes from my locker, the halls were clearing out. It was just me and a few other students wandering the halls. I was already late but I didn’t care. I was so numb. As I began to trek down the long corridor, I passed my daily torment, Cody. “Please ignore me. Please ignore me.” I begged silently as we walked closer still. We both kept walking closer and closer to one another. As soon as he was close enough to work his bullying magic, he smacked my books out of my arms. They scattered all over the floor, papers flew around everywhere. Then he pushed me into the wall. That was the first time he had physical harmed me. I was scared to death. My head clonked against the wall and began aching instantly. “Why were you out for so long? Huh? You lazy ass worthless piece of s**t!” He said, getting right in my face. “I was sick you…you…” I couldn’t even think of a word harsh enough to call him. “What? I’m a what? Too scared to fight back, huh? Wimp.” He said. Then he kicked my knees in and strode away from me. I crumpled to the floor, to numb to stand any longer. As I sat there, whimpering in pain, I was debating with myself whether or not to tell on Cody. I knew that if I told, he would just beat me up again. But if I didn’t tell, he would just continue to beat me up. Either way, I was going to get beat up. I sighed and leaned my head back against the wall. “If you tell, you will be a wimp. A snitch, everyone will hate you.” I said to myself. I decided to go back to the nurse. When I got there, the nurse saw me limping and asked what was wrong. “I fell down the stairs.” I lied smoothly. “Aw, you poor thing, come now, lay down.” “No!” I objected quickly. Not the cot, not the cot, anything but the cot, I thought to myself. The nurse looked confused, but didn’t object. She just let me sit in a hard folding chair. It was worse then the cot.

I spent the rest of the day sitting in that chair. My head was throbbing like crazy. “I hate you Cody.” I mumbled, rubbing the part of my head that was aching the worst. The nurse had given me an ice pack but it just made my headache even more unbearable. To entertain myself I began to draw on my notebook. I was doodling aimlessly, hardly paying attention. By 7th period, my notebook was covered. But my doodles surprised me. I looked down on a full page of horrible drawings. I was drawing frowning faces, sinking boats, tears, jagged lines, sad sayings, and “pain” written all over. Plus, many other things; this all surprised me. I continued to stare down at my hideous notebook. Finally, I stood up…my notebook flopped on the floor, but I didn’t bother to pick it up. I said a quick thank you to the nurse and walked out the door. I knew what I needed to do now. I found myself in Mr. Schmidt’s office again. We sat staring at each other wordlessly. Finally, Mr. Schmidt broke the silence. “Alright Zo. We can’t just stare each other down all day. I need to know what’s up.” I came right out with it. “Am I depressed, Mr. Schmidt?” “Hm, that’s an interesting question. Depression is generally hard to detect. It’s a whole big thing about chemicals in your brain and blah blah blah, stuff you don’t wanna hear me drone about. But depression is a very serious issue. But sadly, depression is one of the most disregarded disorders out there, next is schizophrenia. It’s something that needs to be treated because in many cases, depressed patients are suicidal or self-mutilate. Zo, have you ever hurt yourself on purpose?” “No, sir. I’m not a freak” “How do you think someone who does hurt themselves would feel if you said that to them?” “Umm, like…bad. I guess.” “Exactly. How you had any thoughts of harming yourself or perhaps ending your own life?” “Not really…” “Not really, Zo? Tell me the truth please.” “I don’t know! I just feel like crap. I don’t care about anything anymore! I’ve lost a ton of weight and sh*t like that. I feel like an unfeeling blob. I don’t have strength anymore and I just wish that this nightmare would end!” “I think I’ll make a call to your parents Zo.” “No! Don’t tell them anything. I don’t want to bother them.” “Zo, your safety is like, on the line here. Not to freak you out or anything but, I’m afraid I have to tell them.” So I sat there, pointlessly attempting to get my guidance counselor to not call my parents. But I knew that I was just wasting my breath, so I slumped back in my chair and shut my mouth. Finally, Mr. Schmidt hung up the phone. “Well, your mother didn’t pick up. I’ll try your father.” He said reassuringly, picking up the phone again and dialing my fathers work number. Another minute went passed and he hung up the phone again. “Your father didn’t pick up either.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Now he just seemed frustrated. “My parents don’t care anyway.” I mumbled. “I highly doubt that, Zo.” He put his friendly smile back on quickly “What would you know about my parents?” I growled “You have a point. I wouldn’t know anything about them. But I can guarantee you that your parents love you and want the best for you.” “It doesn’t feel like that sometimes. Sometimes it feels like they don’t even know I exist. I’m afraid that they’ll just like forget about me one day.” “Zo, your parents could never forget you. They are your parents after all.” “Yeah, pretty crappy parents if you ask me.” “Do you really feel that way about the people who raised you and fed you and kept a roof over your head? They changed your diapers, and made sure you were safe and healthy all your life.” “Yes, I do feel that way about them. Because they are the ones who made me move to this place. To the state that sounds like misery. For crying out loud, out of all the places we could have moved, we move to Missouri. Misery.” I huffed loudly, suddenly exhausted again. Mr. Schmidt looked stung, like I had offended him. He lived in this same little town his whole life. (I had learned that from the nurse earlier.) “Alright, I’ll tell you what Zo. I’m going to send you off to eighth period and I’ll continue trying to contact your parents. I want you to try to find time to see me tomorrow if you come to school, of course. Think you can do that for me?” “Yeah, sure, whatever.” I grumbled, dreading eighth period because I knew that I had Cody in that class. I got up and gathered my things. I felt almost bad about insulting the place that Mr. Schmidt loves so much. All he was doing was trying to help and I was snobby and rude. I felt a sensation of strong self loathing creeping up on me. But I knew that I had to go to class so I tried to push those feelings away and make it through my last period of that day. My whole day had basically sucked pretty badly. I got to my eighth period class early and took my assigned seat. I sunk down even lower in my seat when Cody walked in. He walked over to me confidently, with an obnoxious smirk smeared across his ugly face. “Hey, how’s your head?” He grinned. “Leave me alone Cody.” “What are you going to do wimp? Tell your mommy on me?” He snorted obnoxiously. “You don’t want to know what I’ll do to you. You are a sick, sick boy. You obviously need help.” I threatened darkly. “You need to beat up a girl to make your wimpy self feel fulfilled. All you had to do was push someone around. Nobody wants you around, anyway. So how do you feel now Cody? I hope you feel like a wimp. Because that’s what you are. A worthless, wimpy jackass.” Despite my insults that I was ruthlessly hurling at him, he appeared unfazed. I couldn’t scare anyone anymore. I used to be able to have people jump at the sound of the name Zo Avery. I was always a tough girl. But, I never actually fought anyone. “You don’t scare me Avery. You better watch your back.” He snarled. Then he turned and walked to his seat. A shiver ran down my spine involuntarily. Now I was the one that was frightened. When the end of the class came around, I walked out with my only friend I had made since moving here. “Danny, Cody wants my head.” “What? He’s still picking on you?” He growled. Danny was very protective of me. “Worse, he jumped me in the hall today.” Automatically, Danny snarled. “What did he do to you?” He growled through clenched teeth. “He shoved me against a wall and kicked my knees in. Please don’t tell anyone, Danny. I’ll take care of it.” I pleaded, already choking up. “I won’t tell but if he does it again, I will kick his ass.” I couldn’t help but smile then. It felt good to know that I had someone who cared about me. “Thanks Danny. You’re the best.” He grinned. “I know.” “So, why were you out for so long?” He gently asked. “I wasn’t feeling well.” I snapped back at him. “Ok, sorry. Hope you are feeling better because I really want to see that new movie. Don’t worry; it’s my treat this time.” He smiled again. “That sounds great, Danny.” I smiled back, I needed to get out. “Let me just call my mom and ask.” I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my mom’s number. She still wasn’t picking up so I left a message that I would be back later that night. I went to see that movie with Danny, hoping it would cheer me up or pull me out of my slump, but it didn’t. Usually that always cheered me up. But I smiled anyway and thanked Danny for the movie, and went home and cried.

I went to school the next day, just because I promised Mr. Schmidt that I would come to see him. I told him about the movie and how it didn’t cheer me up and how I went home and cried and how I had to spend the night catching up on homework until my brain was fried.

“Sounds like you had a busy day yesterday.” He remarked as he began writing stuff down on a clean sheet of lined paper.

“Yeah, I guess. Why are you writing stuff down? Is that about me?”

“Yup, that’s right.”

“Why are you doing that?”

“So I can analyze it more closely later. This allows me to listen more carefully to you now.”
I shrugged it off and allowed it. I wasn’t going to try to fight him anymore.

“So, overall, how do you feel today?”

“Fine, I guess.”

“Just fine? Give me something else here. You can’t just be feeling ‘fine’.”
I leaned forward in the chair and glared at him.

“I. Feel. Fine. Today…thanks for asking” I snarled. Why didn’t he just let it go?

“Alright…” He said in a disbelieving tone. He was correct, I wasn’t feeling fine. I still felt horrible. But I’m usually good at hiding my emotions, so I played along, rather then spilling my guts out again. That didn’t turn out well the other day. So I stayed quiet and answered the questions he asked me, with the answers he wanted to hear. Soon he let me go back to class. It was the beginning of eighth period when I let Mr. Schmidt’s office. I was supposed to come and see him again the next day. I began to worry that it was going to become a daily thing. I didn’t want that. I felt like a freak enough already as is. Having to see the school’s shrink on a daily basis would only make those feelings worse. Cody ignored me today, so that was good. Danny asked me about how I liked the movie. I told him it was great and that I had a great time. Today was all about giving people what they wanted and telling them what they wanted to hear. I was trying to avoid any possible trouble that might come my way. Whether it was Cody, or Mr. Schmidt or even the lunch monitors. But the point is that I got through the day. Maybe not as smoothly as I wanted to, but I got through it. I actually felt proud of myself. Once at home, I went over to Danny’s house. (He’s my next door neighbor) I climbed up the tree that we usually climb up to get to each other and I hopped through his window. He was sitting at his desk, doing homework.

“Hey, you made it.”

“Obviously. I told you that we would do homework after school, didn’t I?” I grinned at him; I liked hanging out with Danny.

“Yeah, you did. Alright let’s get started on math.”

“Ugh, I hate math.”

“I know you do.” He chuckled. We had done homework all the time after school with each other. But this time, it was different. After about twenty minutes of equations, Danny stopped and got up from his desk and flopped backwards onto his bed. He groaned loudly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, first of all…I hate equations.” He grumbled. “Second of all, I know that there is something going on with you and I’ve been waiting patiently for you to tell me but you haven’t. What is going on Zo? You can tell me.”
I was blown away. I didn’t realize he was that attentive. I really didn’t want to tell him anything but I felt obligated to. After all, today was all about telling people what they wanted to hear. But I just couldn’t tell him. I didn’t feel like he would understand. He may have been my best friend, but something was keeping me from telling him about my depression. I must have had a bewildered expression on my face because Danny sighed and said,

“It’s ok, Zo. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. But I just want to let you know that I’m worried about you.”

“Thank you Danny.” I said softly. I gave him a big hug and choked back some tears. It was tearing me up inside, not being able to tell him. For crying out loud not, even my parents knew anything about it either. Not that they cared, the never cared about stuff like that. My dad always told us to be happy because we have a good life. He used to tell us that we shouldn’t cry because we had no reason to. To cry was considered weak in my house. I was furious with my parents about that now. They had put this image in my head that it’s never okay to cry, and so I never did. Even though, in my opinion, crying is good for you sometimes.

“It’s hard, because I want to tell you so bad, but you’ll think of me differently. I don’t want that” I continued, letting the tears fall now. I could no longer hold them back.

“Zo, nothing could make me think of you differently. I’m here to listen if you’re willing to talk.”

“I want to talk so bad but I literally…can’t. Something is holding me back.”

“I don’t mean to pry. But what does that mean?”

“It means that I’m…scared…or something.”
He crossed the room and sat down next to me on the floor.

“Scared of what?” He said softly, his brow furrowed. I whimpered and turned away.

“I don’t know.” I said finally, sighing deeply. This was killing me. I felt like such a horrible friend. Inside, I knew that he should know because it would be good to have some support. That little bit of self-preservation was popping back up again. “You would not want to hear about it anyway.”

“Of course I would. Because you are my best friend and I want to help you in anyway possible.”

“Alright, Danny, here it is…” He leaned in eagerly as I began to spill my guts…for the second time.

After about half an hour of me jabbering on, I was done talking. I was exhausted. Danny looked…unsurprised. This surprised me. He smiled kindly and hugged me.

“When my sister was our age, she went through the same thing. I’m here for you. I can’t quite remember what my sister was like when she was depressed because I was only four. So I’m not going to think of you differently because I’ve seen what it’s like after all that hell. My sister is one of the happiest people I know. I’m going to help you through this, Zo.” He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Because you are my best friend and I love you…” he smiled again, and then fidgeted…like he felt awkward or disappointed when I looked back blankly. It puzzled me. “Uhh…like a sister, of course, but just the same.” I grinned and hugged him again.

“So you’re not scared of me and my freakishness?” Then he laughed loudly.

“Zo,” he chuckled again “you are the farthest thing from a freak. Cody is the freak.” Then he glared past my shoulder. His look confused me. He was glaring at nothing. I turned around to see…Cody. Standing right in Danny’s doorway. I jumped and wiped my eyes quickly, automatically putting my “I hate you.” glare on. Danny stood protectively in front of me.

“What are you doing here?” He snarled.

“My dad is picking up your mom for their date.” He showed his yellowed teeth and spit on Danny’s carpet. “I’m hanging out here tonight. Won’t this be fun!?”

“Absolutely.” Danny glared ferociously back.

“I’ll be downstairs, watching TV. Bring me some popcorn will you?” He picked at the dirt underneath his fingernails.

“Get your own damn popcorn.” Danny said. “Starve for all I care.” He walked forward and pushed Cody out of his room, slamming the door behind him and locking it.

“Well, that felt good.” He grinned triumphantly. “You should get out of here now; I don’t want you around that jerk.”

“Yeah that would probably be best. But I am not letting you alone with him. I’m staying.”
Danny looked saddened; he obviously didn’t want me around him. “You don’t have to.” He frowned disapprovingly.

“Oh, I won’t be staying long. I’m smarter then that.” I grinned, cackling to myself. Poor Danny…he was in for some rough times. From what I heard through the grapevine, Cody’s mother was the most charming lady. Danny’s dad was just the same. I felt bad for him, even though Danny could totally take Cody down. Danny was tall and heavily muscled for a fifteen year old. Weight lifting was popular in his family and he had been doing it since he was twelve. He was not the best looking guy, but he was popular and kind to everyone. We first met on my first day of being in the new school. I was looking at a map and I ran into him. My books spilled all over the floor. Danny helped me pick them up and showed me where my class was. I saw him in the hall over and over that day. He waved but could never get the chance to actually make conversation. He caught me after school, like a week later, and finally got to talk to me. He was in many of my classes, but somehow just never made an attempt to talk to me. We clicked and instantly became friends. And the rest is history, as they say.

After an hour at Danny’s house, I left with all of my homework done. This was good because I totally would not have been able to do by myself at home. I actually felt pretty good when I went to bed that night. I knew that Danny was supportive of me. I let myself smile a little when I went to sleep that night. It felt strange, but good at the same time.

An uneventful week went by. Cody left me alone for the most part. I saw Mr. Schmidt often, and I hung out with Danny almost every day. I was feeling really good until I realized that I was being unrealistic. Here I was, being all happy-go-lucky when I had no right to. ‘It’s irrational to be so happy.’ I scolded myself. I snuffed my little flame that I had been feeling all week. The weekend came along and I wondered what to do with myself. I was feeling incredibly unsociable so I sat at home. Over that weekend, (since I was alone most of the time) I thought about many things. I contemplated asking my parents for help. I almost confronted my mother one night after dinner. But I chickened out and fled to my room instead. She didn’t bother to come up and question me. Then I was hit with a terrible realization: my parents really did not care. Or they were just incredibly oblivious. Either way, I knew that if I was going to do something to try to save myself, I was not going to have parental support. This made me cry. Just like every other little thing did. A button on my keyboard cracked, I had to hold back my tears. I burned myself with a cup of hot coffee. I was tearing up. My shampoo ran out, I bawled till I had a headache. I felt like I was going crazy. It seemed like fifteen years of held-back tears came out in one ghastly weekend.

I went to school the next Monday. I was fighting the urge to stay home that day. I was also fighting a horrible migraine that had been consistent since the shampoo incident. I woke up late, threw on dirty jeans and a sweatshirt, grabbed some Extra Strength Advil and ran out the door.

“Good morning sunshine.” Danny said, detected my wretched mood. I just glowered at him and begged for the Advil to kick in quickly.

“You look like you had a fun weekend.”

“No kidding.” I rubbed my temples.

“I’m sorry, what happened?”

“I cried a lot. That’s it.”

“I’m sorry, seems like I’m going to have to cheer you up.” He smiled understandingly at me.

“Good luck with that.” He patted me on the back as we boarded the bus together. We took our usually seats when suddenly a thought flew into my head.

“Danny, why is it that we are next door neighbors, yet it took you a week for you to come and actually talk to me?”

“I believe the correct question would be, why didn’t you come talk to me?” He smirked.

“Well, um, I didn’t…realize I was supposed to…” The situation suddenly became awkward. I shut right up. Danny chuckled, seeing me speechless.

“Anyway, are you coming over after school today?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay. But I have wrestling practice after school. I’ll text you after school.”

“Nah, I think I’m just going to stay after in the library and try to get some work done.”

“Alright, so we’ll head home together after school.” He smiled at me. I tried to smile back but it didn’t work out so well.

It was ninth period when I was reading in the library and I suddenly heard someone let out a sharp scream. I looked up from my book but looked nothing else of it. I kept on reading until I saw Danny in my peripheral vision; he was walking past the door holding his arm tightly. The nurse walked next to him. I got up and walked out the door.

“Danny!” I called down the hall to him. He stopped and turned towards me. His eyes were bloodshot and his arm was swollen.

“Zo, we think it’s broken.” The nurse said, gesturing to his arm. I ran up to him. My eyes were wide and glossy. Danny just whimpered.

“I’m fine.” He said. “I’m going to the hospital to get an x-ray”

“Mrs. Harrison, can I come?” The nurse sighed deeply. She obviously didn’t want me to come.

“Seeing how you two are good friends and next door neighbors, I’ll allow you to come. Don’t tell anyone I allowed this.” I began to think that Mrs. Harrison had a soft spot for me.

“Thank you!” I grabbed my stuff from the library and hurried after Danny and Mrs. Harrison.

At the hospital, I sat in the exam room with Danny. They gave him some Vicodin and now he was all loopy and doing funny things. One minute he was making chicken noises at me, then the next he was singing loudly. I was sitting in the chair, giggling my head off, when Danny suddenly rolled his head over and looked at me. His eyes were squinted as he got up and got right in my face.

“You…” he pointed at me “are PRETTY.” Then he walked back to the table and sat down. I was laughing incredibly hard now. It may sound morbid, but Danny and his broken arm totally made my day.

“What are YOU laughing at?” He muttered.

“You! You’re all loopy and stuff. You told me I was pretty in an angry voice.” I chuckled. My stomach began to hurt from laughing so hard.

“Glad I made you smile little missy!” He giggled.

I helped Danny at home later that night. His father came to check on him once and saw that I was loyally tending to him. He didn’t come to check again. I went home feeling like I had done a good deed. This also made me feel pretty good. I was amazed by how much better I was feeling. But, it all came crashing down when my parents finally confronted me.

Apparently Mr. Schmidt got a hold of my mother…she flipped out and told my father…who flipped out and called his mom…who flipped out and called me. It was just a huge cycle. Finally, they just finally came to my room and made me talk.

“Why didn’t tell us you were feeling this way!” My mom whined, stroking my face.

“Not my fault you don’t pay much attention to me.” I muttered to myself.

“ZoAnna Elise Avery. You will not speak to your parents that way.” My father scolded.

“It doesn’t even feel like you’re my parents! You never pay attention to me! It’s like you don’t even notice when I’m gone!”
For an hour they scolded me. Rather then trying to calm me down and make me feel better and like I had support, they just yelled at me for not telling them sooner. I eventually broke down and started crying. Then my father scolded me for that too. It was horrible. I felt myself sinking again. I had all those bad feelings. I knew my slump was not about to end. I felt sick to my stomach and achy all over. I didn’t go to school the next day. I wasn’t surprised when my parents didn’t come to check on me. But I was surprised when Mr. Schmidt called my house phone. I cleared my throat and picked up the phone.

“Hello Zo, its Mr. Schmidt from school.”

“Oh, um, hi Mr. Schmidt.”

“I was just wondering why you’re not in school today.”

“I don’t feel well.”

“Really? What do you have? A cold?”

“No…”

“Then why are you out, Zo?”

“Because my parents got all pissed at me because of YOU and now I have a migraine and I’m all sad again and my back hurts and my dad yelled at me for crying and and and…” I blubbered on.

“Please don’t be mad at me. I also wanted to let you know that I have scheduled an appointment with an excellent psychotherapist tomorrow after school. I informed your parents and they can take you. I hope to see you in school tomorrow. Good bye Zo.”

I hung up the phone and sighed deeply. At least he gave me a reason to go to school the next day.

I scuffled to school the next day even though I felt like crap. The only thing that put a smile on my face for even a little while was the fact that Danny didn’t let anyone sign his cast the day before because he insisted on having me be the first one to sign it. I signed quickly and put a little smiley face and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Danny had been so good with everything that was going on. He blushed bright red. I told him about my appointment after school. It actually made him very happy.

“Why are you so smiley about that?”

“Because you’re getting help; this will be so good for you.”

“Thanks…I think.” I got through the day without having to go see Mr. Schmidt. I went to my appointment after school. The ladies name was Lucianna Rose. She was middle aged, probably in her 40’s and was wearing a purple turtleneck and a black A-line skirt. She wore a wedding ring on her finger. She began the session by bringing my parents in and asking them random questions about me. They answered each one. Not correctly though. I bit my lip and wiped my clammy hands on my jeans. After about fifteen minutes, my parents left and Lucianna had time to gently poke and prod at me. She wanted to know why I was there. I told her I was forced to come. She asked me if my parents answered her questions correctly. I told her “my freaking parents don’t know anything.” Then she just let me…talk. She offered some advice and kind thoughts. Overall, the session went well. Besides the thing with my parents, I really enjoyed it. I saw it helping me in the long run. We scheduled another session for the upcoming week. My parents stopped at McDonald’s on the way home and then I went over to Danny’s house. I was climbing through his window when he was sitting at his desk, jamming out silently to his iPod. I saw a perfect opportunity to scare him. I snooped up behind him, snickering silently. He was listening to “Till I Collapse” By Eminem. It was our favorite song and we constantly listened to it together. I would sing along and he would play his guitar. Those were the types of moments that I actually enjoyed about my life in Missouri. Anyway, I continued to sneak up behind Danny until I was inches away from him. I quickly put my hands down onto the top of his head and said “BOO!” He jumped and spun in his chair, his hand on his chest. He paused his iPod and glared at me.

“Wait while I restart my heart.” He murmured. I stuck out my tongue at him and giggled. “You’re going to pay for that.”

“How much?” I grinned at him. He raised his eyebrows.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood.”

“Surprisingly, I am. The meeting with that doctor went really well.”

“That’s great!” He hugged me then whimpered because of his arm.

“You don’t have to hug me if it hurts your arm so much.”
Danny shrugged. “I can deal with pain.” I looked at him questioningly. I tried to let it go but then my good mood prevailed. I continued to try to get him to give a further explanation.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I just mean that a little pain is worth it when it means getting to hug you.”

“That is…so incredibly…cheesy.” I laughed. “Why? Do you have a crush on ME?” I taunted.

“Did you come here to taunt me? ‘Cuz so far, you’re doing a really good job!” He whined back.

“You did not answer my question.”

“Fine.” He said simply.

“Fine what?” I replied. Danny then grabbed me and kissed me.

“Does that answer your question?” he said in a squeaky voice “…sorry, I temporarily lost control of the pitch of my voice.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Puberty.” His voice cracked.

‘Great, now where do I go from here?’ I thought to myself. I took a step back, still feeling awkward from the kiss.

“Um…” Danny’s face fell a little bit. He definitely looked disappointed. I felt bad because deep down, I knew I had the same feelings. I was just to chicken to express them. The only way I could think to show them was to do the same thing Danny had done to me. We kissed again.

Those next few days were great. I was still feeling good and was continuing my progress with Lucianna and Mr. Schmidt. I caught up with my school work and although my parents were still being all misinformed and stuff, I tried not to let it get me down. I was feeling better when I sang which just made me incredibly happy. Danny was happy to see me happy and we spent nearly every day together. But, despite how good I was feeling, I knew that I still had a lot of work to do. I hadn’t beaten it yet. I was just glad to feel…happy again.

Unfortunately, I had a slight downfall within the next two weeks. Everything began to fall down around me. I was suddenly feeling like I didn’t deserve those good feelings. Or like they weren’t my own…they didn’t belong to someone like me. Danny noticed the falling domino effect happening. He tried to cheer me up but nothing seemed to help. I talked to Lucianna about it and she began talking about medication and all this stuff that just scared me half to death. So THAT didn’t cheer me up either. I was beginning to feel like crap again. That was the worst. It’s like this: One day, you can literally feel…wonderful. Like you’ve got the whole world on a string, anything is possible. All you want to do is sing and smile. Then the next day: you forget why you where ever happy. You sit and sulk and that funk sticks with you. Then you don’t have another good day for awhile. The sadness was like tape. It stuck to you all over and it’s hard to get off. Eventually the tapes stickiness wears off and it falls off. Until someone comes along with a new piece of that stupid tape, sticks it right on you and ruins you again. It’s a horrible, humiliating cycle. But, what’s even worse is that you can’t do anything about it.

“So, Zo, what do you think, upset you last week?” Lucianna asked at our next session.

“I honestly don’t know. I was feeling great for, like, a week and then one day I woke up and couldn’t get out of bed. Nothing had really happened so I just tried to shake it off. But it won’t go away.”

“Hmm…”

“I think it’s my parents fault. They just haven’t been supportive. I feel like I’m fighting this all alone. My sisters don’t know anything. And if they did know, they wouldn’t know what to say, or even car for that matter.”

“Why do you say that? If you don’t mind me continuing on the subject”

“…because all my life, I’ve been in the background. I swear it’s like my parents forget who I am from time to time. I don’t understand why they even had me if they weren’t going to pay attention to me!” I began to choke up. My relationship with my parent shave never been a good one. It was a sore spot and she was beginning to poke it. I just got angry. I did mind her continuing the subject. I just wanted her to shut up at that point. I rolled my eyes and let out a deep sigh.

“My parents don’t care. Why should they? They have way more important things to be doing then watching over me. In my house, it’s like I’m living by myself. People leave me alone; I buy my own clothes, my own shampoo and conditioner and tampons and stuff like that. I thought your parents were supposed to provide that type of care.”

“Do they do that for CeCe or Wendy? Do they care for them?”

“Yes! Their every need. If Wendy has a runny nose, Mom will wipe it. If CeCe is hungry, Dad will go out and buy her something to eat. It’s ridiculous!” I whimpered.

“I’m sure that if you asked, your father would go out and buy something for you too. I’m sure that your mother would hand you a tissue if you needed it. Despite your thoughts about them, your parents DO love you.”

“Whatever. Can we stop talking about this? I want to talk about chorus.”

“That’s fine Zo. Whatever you want to talk about, we can talk about.”

After three more months of therapy with Lucianna, I was really beginning to show some progress. School was not as difficult for me. I had something done about Cody. (Got him expelled, actually.) My parents were more involved with me. Things were finally, finally looking up. I got into All-County Chorus and truly made my mom and dad proud. I think that the moral of my story is that you need to fight for yourself. You need to believe that whatever hell you are being put through, you can fight it and be happy again. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel—unless it’s night time but that does not count…anyway, I fought my way through a harsh depression for many months and I survived. I’m happy again. There is always hope. You just have to stay strong, believe in yourself, and recognize how powerful you truly are. With those things in mind, you really can make it through anything.