I remember the day very clearly, it was raining outside and the sound of thunder never quieted down or even stopped for a mid-second.  Even though it was almost unbearable to deal with, I couldn’t find myself hating the earthshaking sound of the thunder, since it made me feel relaxed and at ease.  Though as much as I wish I could say that all these feelings of happiness stayed and be fine, I can’t.  The sweet taste of happiness from listening to the storm outside, was just a mere fragment of my imagination. For that sweet feeling was stripped from me as I opened a simple message box that would ruin me still to this day.

But before I move onto the story, I want to say that I’m not looking for countless apologies for something that can’t be corrected.  I’m not here looking for someone to give me a hug and say everything’s going to be better in the future; because that’s the biggest lie of all time.  A simple lie that people had been saying for centuries now, a simple saying about how life gets better when you’re older or gets better in the future.  This is one of the biggest lies someone could make because life doesn’t get easier as time passes, if anything it gets harder.

Now then moving forward into the story, it was just before my fifteenth birthday. I was still young as well as full of so much energy for it was nearing my birthday after all. Now then going back to that message box, I was hoping that it would have something saying ‘happy early birthday’ or ‘you’re getting old my friend’ but it didn’t. 
Instead I looked at the first sentence that the message started with, and right then and there my heart seemed to be torn from my chest.  Like a splinter being ripped from your flesh. It hurt like hell as the agony kept piling up until the pain was unbearable.  For what I had seen wasn’t anything to do with my birthday coming up in a few days, it started with ‘I’m sorry to tell you this.’

I remember my heart thumping against my ribcage with each passing second, yet I still continued reading over the first line not having the courage to read any farther.  However, once I forced myself to continue reading on, I shattered at the very spot I sat.

The message said these very words, “I’m sorry to tell you this but she died. She cut her hand nearly all the way off with a butcher’s knife…It was still attached to her hand by some flesh but other than that, she was dead within seconds from blood loss.”  Now the reason I say she is because I rather not say her name, I rather not mention my friend that passed away in seconds.  I rather not breath the name that curses me with sorrow and pain.  A name that’s so beautiful and so gentle, I won’t dare say because that’s my friend and I’ll let her rest in peace.

At this moment, I could already feel a heavy weight just press down on my shoulders, a weight that would stick with me forever and ever. And that weight was no other than depression itself.  I could already feel it sweeping into my heart and consuming it in it’s dark hole that depression is.  It didn’t hurt at all, or maybe I just didn’t feel it at that moment but I don’t recall anyone to my knowledge that has ever felt something other than emptiness and pain.

After all what do you do when something so beautiful got taken away from you in only seconds?