I started writing a fictional story. I need feedback. This is just the first draft of the first and second part of the story. I just want to know whether you think its worth expanding on, and what changes if any I should make so far.

1.

“My chest is tight, vision a blur. There is a clear wall washing over me, but I can’t escape it. I am drowning. My lungs are filled with water. I try to scream, but nothing more than a bubbled cry is heard. I woke up. Breathing heavily, the water has disappeared. It was just a nightmare; I have been having these a lot lately. Nothing a midnight run in the cold couldn’t fix. I got out of bed; threw on a pair of shorts and a hoody. On the way out the door I grabbed my iPod; what is a run without music?

I started out the door. It was cold and rainy, my favorite running condition. As I started running the cold numbed my body, and the rain seemed to part around me as if I was all-powerful and had control over the rain. As I looked into the distance, it appeared there was a clear wall blocking the road. I sped up; felt the cold lashing against my legs, and the wind ran through my long, wet hair. I broke through the wall, unlike in my nightmares. ‘The water will not defeat me again,’ I thought to myself, ‘I am stronger than this.’ My lungs are clear, and I am free.

I finished my run in a sprint, the weather and myself defeated. Feeling good, I walk inside, strip naked and climb back into bed. After my run, I hoped to rest easy, but this was not the case. I began tossing and turning as I sank into an eternal pool of darkness. My body felt as if it’d began falling through my bed, my floor, my house, the ground. I was beneath the earth in a bath of evil. The sounds were terrifying, yet silent. I woke up screaming, but it was a muffled scream as though my lungs were filled with fluid. I was drowning myself subconsciously. Why must I die in my dreams? Why must the death of me be the purest of all things: water?”

“Good,” she said. “This is interesting. Tell me do you know the purpose of a dream?”

“The purpose?” I asked. “Like why we have dreams?”

“Precisely.”

“It’s what we are feeling or thinking about right?”

“Well you see dear, dreams are our innermost thoughts; a desire really. Now not all dreams are desired, but many are. Typically when we have nightmares, it is a fear of ours; perhaps from a bad memory?”

“But, I have never drowned before, I don’t even know anyone that has.”

“Why do you feel you are having these nightmares?”

“Well, I don’t know. I guess it has something to do with my depression or this feeling of helplessness that overwhelms me.”

She nodded, as if she agreed with my statement then took a deep breath and cautiously asked, “but why water?”

“In literature, water is the symbol or foreshadowing of a rebirth or cleansing. Maybe I don’t die. I have never slept through to the end. I always wake up in a panic.”

“Good. Elaborate on that.”

“The farthest I have slept through the nightmare, I would struggle to get out of the water, until I didn’t.”

“Didn’t?”

“Struggle. I would fight and fight to get out of the water, and I could hear my heart pounding like a drum. It would beat faster and faster, as if the drum was getting louder and louder like a tribal ceremony. Then suddenly, it would stop.”

“So you died?”

“No. The beat, it would stop but my eyes were open. Life was slow, and quiet and numb. Then the heart beat, it was there again but it was just a normal beat… like it was a metronome just ticking back and forth.”

“Interesting,” she said while scribbling something down. “I want you to come back tomorrow for a double session. I think we are really making progress here.”

I breathed in deeply and slowly. My hands were sweaty and my eyes felt heavy with tears. My throat tightened as I asked, “do you think I will ever be happy again?”

“Of course. Everyone gets better if they try.”

I stood up from the couch, looked around the room. I couldn’t believe I was sitting in therapy for the third time this week. Was I really this much of a nut job? Does everyone really get better if they try? Maybe if we all take enough meds but then we’d all be numb. I am.

2.

After therapy I walked home. As I walked up to my house I noticed we had the worst kept lawn in the entire neighborhood. We lived in the desert so cutting the grass wasn’t a problem, but our neighbors at least had the decency to trim the weeds that grew in their dirt. As soon as I put my key in the front door I heard my puppy start barking.

I walked into the house and saw myself sitting at my computer on a video call with him, my ex, my kryptonite. I was screaming through tears; holding a knife beneath the table, trembling. I watched myself make several shallow cuts into my arm while my puppy sat squealing in her crate.

Behind me, the door opened and I stood and watched while two guys demanded the keys to my ex’s car. I watched while my tone shifted to anger and I screamed to give me more time, which I needed to clean my shit out of his car. And I watched as the guys reluctantly left and I bolted the door behind them. I began to scream. My phone started to ring, and I threw it at the wall. I ran through the house throwing stuff that reminded me of him while crying uncontrollably.

Finally, I slowed down. I grabbed a bottle of painkillers, opened it, and tossed it back like a shot of alcohol. I grabbed some orange soda from the fridge and washed them down. I breathed deeply while I looked at my wrist; the pain was absent now so I cut into it deeply. Blood started to seep down my arm, and I started to scream. It didn’t hurt but that’s what bothered me. I couldn’t feel the pain release. I made another cut, and again no pain. I grabbed another bottle of painkillers and started to toss it back, but it was harder this time. It took two swigs of soda to wash it down, but now I was dizzy and every time I screamed, my puppy barked. I couldn’t handle feeling like I was letting her down so I grabbed the remaining painkillers and stumbled to my bedroom.

When I got to bed, I took another shot of painkillers and began to cry. I could still hear my puppy in a panic. Suddenly the world seemed to quiet down. The barking became muffled, and my crying stopped. I shook my head and I wasn’t in my bed anymore. I was standing in the front door, staring into the distance where I once sat at my computer. I looked at my arm and the cuts were faded scars.

Every time I came home to an empty house and my puppy barking, I replayed that day in my head.  It seemed to replay more rapidly each time, but every time I saw the events of that day they lingered in my memory longer.

Today is my friend Petry’s birthday!

Petry is in the air force and is currently scheduled to relocate to England May 21st. BUT because he wants to date me he has requested to cancel his orders and live here. He won’t find out until Monday whether or not he is staying. SO until Monday our relationship status is to be determined…

ANYWHO! He is working a 12 hour night shift right now, and I have been scrubbing every inch of this house since the minute he left for work. The plan is clean the house, bake a cake, shower, do my hair the way he loves it and have breakfast on the table waiting for him when he gets home.

I HOPE I CAN GET IT DONE AND I HOPE HE LOVES IT!

HAPPY 22ND BIRTHDAY PETRY!

dude just creepin on two lovely ladies…lol

As the oldest of four kids, I was always expected to “stay strong.” It was up to me to do well in school and partake in as many extra-curricular activities as my schedule would allow, set an example for the little ones. If anything devastating were to happen, it was my job to keep a smile on my face and go about my day as if everything was going to be “okay.” This meant, no matter how much something affected my emotions, I had to act as if the only emotion I knew was happiness, even though for many years that was not the case at all. I had to be the one to lie and say, “Everything is going to be okay,” even though I knew everything was going to be far from “okay.”

            After finishing high school, I got a break from faking strength and went to study journalism at Michigan State University. Part way through the year, I struggled to understand why I was there, or who I was. I frequently called my mom for advice and assurance that “everything was going to be okay.” Unfortunately by the end of the year, a deep depression got the better of me and I gave up. I was hopeful that I could go home and get the help I needed but, little did I know, I was coming home to find everything was about to get so much worse.

            Upon arriving home, my entire family was disappointed in my performance at school. I explained to them that I needed professional help, as I could not do this on my own and to my surprise, after years of asking for help they finally understood, or so it seemed. Relieved to hear my parents agree to get me a therapist, I began keeping a journal that I could use as a frame of reference in the upcoming therapy sessions. After all, writing was always an outlet for my hidden emotions. My parents showed no sign of acting on their promise to find me some help, but I didn’t give up hope.

            As the summer went on, I began to lash out at my parents because I was hurt by their apparent lack of interest in my mental health. Then one day I received a message from my mom’s Aunt Gloria that read,

 Marya, finding yourself is not flunking out of school […] What the hell do you think you’re doing? You are going to blow everything you have going for you. You are smart. Use it! Make something of yourself.

The message infuriated me. I felt hurt and betrayed. My parents had enough time to spread word to the rest of the family that I gave up on school, but they couldn’t pick up a phone and do something about it. However, the betrayal paled in comparison to the secret I could have avoided by keeping my fury to myself.

            After reading the message I quickly left the house. I needed to cry, but I couldn’t show weakness in front of the kids, so I put on my running shoes and ran as far from my house as I could possibly get. Eventually I calmed down and turned around to start walking back home. Along the way I prepared what I was going to say to my mom regarding my frustration, until a car pulled alongside me. It was my twin sister. She told me to get in the car; we needed to talk.

            “Why did you run so far?” she asked.

            “I have been asking mom and dad for help for several years,” I replied. “You don’t know this, but I have attempted suicide twice before. Mom was alerted one of the times by Kevin and Don and she did nothing to help me. Now instead of them getting me help, once again they have ignored my plea!”

            “Ok. Marya I knew that. Mom told me but that doesn’t answer my question,” she said.

            “This morning I woke up to a facebook message from Aunt Gloria. Mom apparently found it ok to tell her all about my mistakes. How could she? Like seriously, is she so selfish that she can turn her back on me and then talk shit to her aunt?” I cried.

            “Marya!” she yelled. “I am not supposed to tell you this, but mom and dad might get a divorce!”

            I was so confused. When I got home I confronted my mom, who broke down into tears almost immediately.

            “I am sorry I told Gloria about your situation, and I am sorry I haven’t gotten you any help yet. You have to understand that while you and Mandy were at college I found out your [stepfather] has been cheating on me,” she said through her tears. “He admitted to it on our 11 year anniversary and claims the affair is done and over with. I have asked him to go to marriage counseling, to try and work it out for the kids but you absolutely cannot let on to knowing about any of this. If he finds out, you will cause a lot of trouble.”

            I felt terrible. I felt angry. I felt hurt. Here I am struggling with depression caused mostly by my biological father leaving me on my sixth birthday and my issues with trust, and now my stepfather was screwing up my family. I wanted him out of the house, and away from my mother, but she, for whatever reason, felt he could change. It took everything inside of me not to punch him in the face each time I saw him.

            As weeks passed, I watched my parents start fighting more and more. I watched as my mom and stepdad fought, my mom left each fight in tears. I watched as my little brother started to lock himself in his room, as my little sister started to “draw mommy pictures so she’d stop crying”, and as my dog started to hide beneath my bed every time my parents were in the same room. I watched as my family fell apart, and told my mom it was time to file for a divorce but she refused “to put this family through hell,” as if that wasn’t already happening.

        For months the fighting continued; it became more severe and more childish. They began sabotaging each other; the more that happened, the more I was brought into the middle of things. I was asked to spy on my dad but whenever I returned with information, my mom became so mad that she’d yell at my father, who then understood I was snitching. Of course, this meant he came back to me to yell at me for tattling to my mother. So I stopped spying, but then my mom learned to pry it out of me.

            As Christmas time approached, things seemed to get worse than ever. My youngest sister begged my parents to stop fighting, at least for the holidays. My mom tried to keep the fighting to a minimum, but my stepdad ruined any chances of that happening by refusing to allow mom to join us at his mother’s house on Christmas Eve. That day, as we all were walking out the door to go to Grandma’s house, my stepdad told us to go say goodbye to my mom. I had a bad feeling about things, and then we found mom locked in her bathroom, refusing to see us off. On Christmas morning at about 1:00 in the morning, shortly after we had returned home from Christmas Eve dinner, I was getting ready for bed downstairs when I heard my twin sister scream at my mom.

            “Mom! Stop! Please! What are you doing?” my sister screamed while running after my mother.

            I ran up the stairs as fast as I could to see what was going on, and saw my mom and sister in tears. My mom had a bag packed and was walking out the door, while my sister chased after her.

            “Mom! What are you doing?” I yelled. “You have four children! Two of which are five and ten years old! Think about them! He pisses us all off, but we can’t do this without you, Mom!”

            “Marya! You are the oldest. You go back into that house; you wrap those Christmas presents and get them under the tree. You make sure those kids have a wonderful Christmas!” My mom yelled back while wiping her tears and throwing her bag into her car. “You are a much better mother figure than I can be right now, and you tell them ‘Mommy loves them very much, and when I come home, I will be a better mommy!’ You tell them that, and you take care of them.”

            My mom got in her car and backed out of the garage, while my twin and I stood there crying. It was Christmas and my mom just left. We had no idea where she was going, or when she’d get back. All we knew was “everything is not going to be okay.”

Forever ago, when I was drawing up ideas for my twin tattoo I kept writing “always and forever.” It never really meant anything to me, but whenever I tried to draw up a tattoo for my twin and I, I wrote, “always and forever.” I never told mandy about that particular idea.

Tonight, I was super depressed. I took a walk outside in the cold, just so I could cry. I have been depressed for a few days, but over the years I have been really good at masking it in front of my family. Especially in front of Mandy, but you see that has become easy because she lives over an hour away.

Then out of nowhere, Mandy sent me a text message…she had no idea I was depressed, I hadn’t told her or given my mom any reason to believe I was having a hard time. SO I knew no one in my family could have told her I was depressed.

It was so random.

The text message(s):

“I’m at the lupe concert and he dedicated “beautiful lasers” to the people who have contemplated taking their life and is struggling. Listen to it please. Love you :)  Almost started crying when he sang that song. Before he sang it he said that we’re in it together and you are loved. Just made me want to give you a hug and tell you I’m here for you. Always and Forever.”

The text meant so much to me, especially being so depressed. So of course, I listened to the song, ended up downloading it. The thing is…for whatever reason when I was trying to think of a tattoo for the two of us, I would always write, “always and forever.” But I hadn’t wrote that in months.

Then on the night that I am super depressed and feel alone, I get that text and its like she knew I was struggling and it ended with that phrase, that neither of us have ever said to eachother. 

So I have decided to change my idea for my twin tattoo to my original thought…”Always and Forever 04.15.91” 

My twin and I are connected in ways that not even I can understand.

Thanks Mandy. I love you

What is the sexiest part of the opposite sex’s body?

Abs

Have you ever made up/sang a song for someone you cared about?

Yes. My friend Anna and I sang Sadie Hawkins Dance to our boyfriends to ask them to Sadies.

Ever had a song sang about/for you?

Yes I have :)

Is there a baby in the room with you right now?

an actual baby, no. someone acting like a baby, yep. dumb college students.

Do you know how to dance?

yes…my moves are icy hot! lol jk but srsly.

Where do you sing the most, in the car, the shower or other?

the better question would be where don’t you sing…then again I’m not sure I could find an answer for that either.

What is your favorite thing that is green?

probably mountain dew or spinach…NOM NOM NOM

What did your last text message say?

“Like I said before I don’t have balls or confidence to talk to girls since I don’t drink all the time. And the first time I laid eyes on you, you were and are so pretty. I love everything about you. Including your personality. You’re a keeper :) and I love you. <3 and im so excited for what the future lies ahead for us. Whether we’re going to fast or slow. You make me so happy. :)”

Boxers, briefs or boxer briefs?

hahaha boxers! jk i wear girl panties…but im a girl so its ok

What is your middle name?

Kristin

What is the way to your heart?

the simple things. i like a guy who loves music, really appreciates it the way I do. I like a guy who is interested in my writing and likes to go for a run just to look at the scenery. i love a guy that uses good manners, and tells me I am beautiful as opposed to sexy…romance may have died but i still long for it.

What do you smell like?

Everyone says my signature smell is the Paris Hilton perfume.

What’s in your pocket?

50 cents and some lip gloss

Kiss someone in the past week?

why yes actually I have :) only the best boyfriend a girl could ask for!

Ever hurt yourself playing Wii?

haha yes. yes i have. don’t ask how…

Do you have freckles?

no, but sometimes i wish i did because they are cute.

How many languages can you say “Hello” in?

french, italian, spanish, chinese, english (5)

What’s the last movie you saw in the theater?

Hall Pass

Ever jumped/fallen/been pushed in a pool with your clothes on?

more times than I can count…

Are you wearing any clothes that you wore yesterday?

nope

Name a song that you know all the words to.

What I Got by Sublime

Are you in love with someone right now?

yes I am!

What’s the last thing you watched on TV?

Family Guy

What’s the last video game you played?

Dance Central

Who is your daddy and what does he do?

Scott works at Chrylser as an executive

Can you do the alphabet in sign language?

yep! :)

Do you have an uncle named Joe?

not to my knoweldge

 What word do you use when people pass gas?

HAHA my grandma says bubbled.

Do you wear glasses?

I wish…seriously I wanted glasses, but I have perfect sight.

What can you hear right now?

The humming of vending machines and the obnoxiously loud people that just got out of class.

Did you feel better or worse or the same yesterday?

A LOT Better

Ever been overseas?

yes. I loved it!

What are your plans for today?

I went to school and now I am waiting for my boyfriend to get out of class so we can spend some time together.

Who was the last person you kissed?

John Williams :)

What was your favorite childhood show?

Scooby Doo!

Are you close to your siblings?

yes I am

What was your first job?

Jimmy Johns!

Do you bite your nails?

only when I am nervous

Do you like your feet?

nope they are gross

Do you sleep well at night?

lately I have been.

I wander’d lonely as a runner

That trains across trails and roads,

When suddenly I discovered a path,

A bed, of colorful fallen leaves;

Across the path, beneath my feet,

Swaying and flying after my strides.

Continuous as the clock that ticks

And counts the days away,

They fell in large piles;

Along the feet of trees:

Hundreds, thousands crunching beneath me,

Singing their song in a fall-time chorus.

The trees above them tried a harmony; but they

Overwhelmed the standing trees with joy:

A runner could not ask for more,

With such a tune accompanied:

I listened – and listened – but it never occurred

The song was more than I’d ever heard:

For when I compete in a race

In a defeated or conquered mood,

The song replays in my head

Gives a boost to my mentality;

And pushes me to success,

To dance among the fallen leaves.