Annie

Trigger warning: depression and suicidal thoughts

The sun was shining and bright when my eyes fluttered open to gaze at the unfamiliar white walls. My hotel room was spacious and light, with beech wood furniture and light blue accents throughout. I could just hear the faint whisper of waves breaking the shore through my open window and the smell of sea-air filled my nostrils. It was so serine; I honestly would have been happy with a vacation here. But no, this was just the first stop before the cruise ship that was going to be my relaxation station for the next week.

Work had been super stressful lately with lots of big deadlines and late nights. My friend Annie who knew me better than I did, noticed that I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and suggested it was time to take some of those many vacation days that I had stowed away. I’d never gone on a cruise, so she instantly bought us two tickets to the Caribbean and refused to let me pay. She could be very stubborn sometimes, but I loved her for it.

Annie unfortunately had to work until the last minute but convinced me to fly down the day before. I’d never traveled alone. It always made me nervous thinking about flights and new countries without a friendly face beside me. But if I’m honest, the flight yesterday and the day I had to myself was one of the nicest days I’ve had in a long time. There was no one to rush me or to decide what to do. I moved at my pace, ate when I was hungry, saw what I wanted to see, and went to bed when I felt like it. It was lovely.

I glanced to the clock. 7:50am. I quickly turned off the alarm that was ready to blare in 10 minutes. I smiled to myself snuggling back into my pillow. Any day that I woke before that incessant noise started up was bound to be a good day.

*****

BEEP BEEP BEEP

I awoke with a start and instinctively hit the alarm to rid my ears of that horrific sound.

I lay back on the lumpy bed not wanting to see the rain that I could hear steadily drumming away on the tin shack that I called home. I closed my eyes and desperately tried to hold onto the bright white room from the dream. It had felt so real and I had felt a sense of calm that I hadn’t felt in years.

Silent tears began to fall down my face as my actual life came flooding back to me. I didn’t have money for a fancy cruise, or even a friend. All I had was a call center job that I worked at from my tiny, dirty house.

I hated everything in here. My bed had those horrible metal springs and several moth-eaten blankets littering the top. My couch was really just a loveseat and had long lost any cushioning. The kitchenette had a hotplate that worked occasionally, a rusty kettle, and a microwave that looked like it belonged in the 80’s. The shag carpet that was everywhere, even the kitchenette, was long trodden with bald patches that littered it like swiss cheese.

Despite my hatred of this place, I preferred not to leave; I had no energy for makeup or hair, I didn’t like picking out matching outfits, and I couldn’t be bothered to shave my legs or even put on deodorant. But worst of all, I didn’t want to change my face to a mask of happiness. The idea of fake smiles to strangers who didn’t care was almost too much to bear.

I didn’t have any friends or even know anyone from work. My landlord, Annie who was a very sweet matronly lady, used to visit with muffins from time to time, but it’s been ages since she’s done that.

I wasn’t always so unhappy but somehow its where I got to. Years of practice, I guess.

I glanced over to the table where I had left a couple of candles and a box of matches.

I got out of bed and roughly wiped the tears from my face. My legs and arms felt like they moved on their own, drawn to the table like a moth to the light.

No one would miss this place or me.

Without a second thought, I took a match and lit two of the four candles. I reached my hand to the curtain that was on the other side of the table and let the flame catch the tattered blue fabric. I then walked the short distance to the couch and left the candle under the batting after lighting my knitted blanket that lived on top.

Back in the bedroom, I put the second candle under an identical curtain as in the kitchen. Crawling back in bed, I smiled to myself as I snuggled back into my pillow. I would never have to hear the incessant noise of that alarm ever again.

*****

Coughing, I woke up and grabbed for the water bottle that lived on my bedside table. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I tried to rid myself of the fiery nightmare that had infiltrated my subconscious.

I clicked my phone to check the time, 2:20 am. I ran my fingers through my slightly damp hair. I’d been having more and more suicidal dreams lately and it was really getting to me.

I needed to talk to Annie.

Annie had been my best friend since third grade; at the start of the school year, we both arrived with the same glittery blue backpack and were instant friends.

I clicked on her name and typed: You up?

Annie was the only person I really trusted with my mental health issues. I know that in this day and age most people struggle with depression and anxiety from time to time, but I couldn’t help but feel that it hit me more often than most people. A month ago, Annie had convinced me to get some professional help, so I did.

I quickly jotted down what I could remember of my dream into a small journal that I had started keeping; something to talk about at therapy this week.

I heard the bloop of a message: Only for you, what’s up?

I replied: Oh, you know, the usual.

There was a moment of silence, before the next replay came in:  I’m coming for a sleepover.

I smiled to myself snuggling back into my pillow. It didn’t matter the time; Annie was always there.

*****

I jolted awake. Do you ever have those moments when you are on the edge of sleep and then you feel like you are suddenly falling. That’s how I woke up. It was still early in the morning; the dark of the room was just starting to welcome the pale light from the early rising sun.

I knew I had been dreaming about Annie again. She was the nurse that was in charge of watching me. She always smiled when she came in my room, and not one of those big cheesy grins, but a warm inviting smile. When you looked at her you just knew she was doing exactly what she was born to do, she was in her element here.

I’d been stuck in this hospital bed for weeks now, ever since my landlord found me and the bottle of pills I gobbled down.

I had planned my last day to perfection. I had eaten a home-cooked meal and cleaned up all the dishes. I had got a bath and then put on my favorite dress. Finally, I had laid down on my fluffy bed surrounded by soft pillows and proceeded to swallow the pills with a bottle of red wine. It was honestly the happiest I felt in years.

The first few days of being here were a blur of semi-consciousness, but now the days were endless pain and torment. Doctors always wanted to test something and they had me hooked up to everything; the buzzing of machines was slowly fraying my already tattered nerves. Annie visited several times a day and I genuinely enjoyed her company, but she had other patients. There were many dark spots that filled the lonely hours between her visits.

I knew Annie was worried that I might go home and try again, it’s probably why she didn’t want to discharge me. I already knew I would try again. It oddly comforted me to know I would soon find my happy.

I smiled, snuggling into my pillow. I wouldn’t fail next time.

*****

Buzz buzz, buzz buzz.

The sound of my vibrating phone pulled me out of the horrifying hospital bed and into my own. I hated dreaming. I would rather close my eyes at night and re-open them in the morning. But rarely did that ever happen.

Buzz buzz, buzz buzz.

I looked to my phone that now lit up the dark room with horrible brightness.

I winced as I look directly at the screen, 1:03am and 8 missed calls from Annie, my younger sister. I sighed, realizing she was probably not going to stop. Still, I didn’t unlock my phone to listen to the messages.

Annie was worried about me.

I couldn’t explain my feelings. It’s probably why I never talked to anyone about my mental health. I had no reason to be unhappy, a fact that people thought was their right to tell me when I would say ‘I’m sad’. I had a great job, a nice apartment, good friends, an annoying yet loving sister, and basically whatever I wanted, but still there were days when the demon’s clawed at my eyes and spit fire into my ears. I hated everything and I just wanted to scream. I didn’t feel like I was ever heard, although that could be because I had nothing to say. I was lonely in my thoughts. It scared me to think that my dreams were foreshadowing of things to come.

Buzz buzz, buzz buzz.

I sighed while looking at my phone. This time it was a text. Knowing Annie wouldn’t stop, I opened it:

Life is hard, but you don’t have to go it alone. I’m always here. In fact, I’m sitting on the floor outside your apartment right now and have been for hours. You don’t have to let me in but just know you are my light and without you I would be darker than you can ever imagine. Also, I have cupcakes.

I smiled, snuggling into my pillow. I guess I would have to let her in.

*****

The lights were fluorescently buzzing as my eyes fluttered open, the dream fading away with each passing second. I looked around at my small sparsely furnished white room and the adjacent twin bed that held my new roommate, Annie. She had arrived the day before, just as I had sat down to eat the mush they call supper. I glanced at the still locked door knowing the floor attendant would probably be along any minute with the morning meds.

I looked back to Annie peacefully unaware that we were going to be furiously great friends.

I smiled to myself, snuggling back into my pillow.