⚠ TW: Mention of self-harm and suicide ⚠

Do you know what it's like to have barely any friends that are there for you?

Bronwyn is seated at her lunch table. Surrounded but alone. The conversations around her are just that around her. She stares into the air, her negative thoughts swirling in the air around her. Toxic. Suffocating. Once she had two people she could trust with anything. Now she sits among ten that could never understand her as deeply. People that she won't trust with everything.

Do you know what it's like to have no one understand you? 

One time Oliver hesitates too long to answer the question "Are you okay?". He instantly regrets it. He shuts down and locks his lips. He is prodded and asked to tell them what's 'wrong'. He can't bring himself to be vulnerable. To detract from the pain that he knows others must go through. Because they have worse problems. His own are insignificant in comparison. The next day they forget. They laugh. Once again his problems are ignored. He is relieved and yet this causes the pain to deepen even further.

Do you know what it's like to have no one to talk to?

Bronwyn opens her mouth to say something. Another voice speaks. Loud and clear. Confident. She closes it. No one wants to hear her troubles. They aren't that bad compared to everyone else's. She remains silent. 

Do you know what it's like to have to hide your pain every day?

Oliver smiles. Fake. He laughs. Fake. His words are positive. Fake. He listens and he speaks. He is happy. No he isn't. His mask is well crafted. His lies are smooth. His family don't notice. Neither do his friends. His heart is bleeding but his mask exudes pure joy and excitement. He is tired. But he refuses to let people see past his mask. To see the weak, pathetic creature he has become.

Do you know what it's like to not want to talk to anyone? 

Bronwyn's mother says goodbye. Bronwyn grunts in reply. She is tired. She does not want to talk. "It's rude to grunt at people you know?" her mother says reprovingly. Bronwyn walks to school trying to keep it together.

Do you know what it's like to feel like crying all the time?

Oliver's nose prickles sharply. He tilts his head upwards slightly, blinking faster. The tears will not come when he fights them so hard. If they are ever noticed he will say the wind stings his eyes. But he never lets it get that far. 

Do you know what it's like to feel like you're doing nothing right?

Her mouth closes as she finishes her rant to her mother about the movie they are watching. Self-loathing and low self-esteem are a deadly cocktail that immediately fills Bronwyn's entire being with regret. She shouldn't have even said anything. It wasn't even that interesting. She wasn't entertaining. She was boring. She should think before she speaks. Before she laughs. Before she smiles. It's just so hard to stop the automatic reactions. And yet she must.

Do you know what it's like to be judged for everything you do?  

Oliver laughs as something funny happens on screen. His gaze flicks to his mother. She did not laugh. His smile falls.

He smiles at his father across the dinner table. His father did not smile. His smile drops away.

Oliver waves goodbye to his friend. His friend did not wave back. An emptiness swallows him.

He does not bother to smile at his sister. His sister smiles at him encouragingly. He does not smile back. 

Do you know what it's like to want to hurt yourself?

Blood wells from cuts that cover delicate skin. The vivid shade makes a mockery of what it represents with its brightness. There is a contrast between the scarlet blood and mocha skin. Bronwyn stands in the fragmented glass filled with self-loathing. She could not hold it in. Yet now she feels even worse than before.

Do you know what it's like to overthink everything? 

Was that joke too clever? Was Oliver too lame? Do they hate him? He can't be funny. Is he boring them? Oh holy hell. He doesn't know what to do. Should he follow or lead? Do they want Oliver? Is he too independent? Is his dependence annoying?

Oliver's thoughts swirl around his head turbulently. His thoughts are muddled. He should think before he speaks. He should just follow what they want. Hands trembling with fear, he is sucked into his thoughts until they consume him.

Every moment is a possible mistake. Refusing to talk unless spoken to should fix that. A need to fit in causes him to consider every possible outcome before making a decision. He keeps making mistakes. On the heels of those mistakes come regret and guilt. When will he get it right? 

Do you know what it's like to be in love with someone who doesn't talk to you?

He's funny. He's interesting. His occasional independence is inspiring. His more often displayed, timid dependence is endearing. He is perfect. Bronwyn is not. He is everything she loves. He never sees her. He never talks to her. Watching his smile, his laugh, his liveliness from afar is equal parts dreamy and agonising. She wishes she could speak to the boy she loves but doubt prevents her.

Do you know what it's like to feel empty? 

Hollow. Empty. Alone. Boring. Worthless. Unwanted. These are all things Oliver is. He is but a shell. A shell believed by the world to be a normal, happy human. A false belief. He is in agony every single day. No one notices. The agony is internal but it is not imagined. The pain is real. The feeling of physical injury is not real. The pain is there but the injury is not. Slashed. Cut. Torn. Ripped. Shattered. Crushed. Empty. Hollow. A lifeless, shell. Oliver is nothing. He is numb.

Do you know what it's like to be tired of everything?

Sleep. That's what Bronwyn wants as she sits in class. Eternal. A sleep that never ends. And yet she is scared. She is so damn tired of everything. 

Tired of pain. Tired of thinking. Tired of fear. Tired of living. She wants to die but she cannot bring herself to take that final step. She fears not existing. She fears what may be on the other side. If there even is one. Lacking conviction saves her life. But for how long, she is not sure. She is so tired.

Do you know what it's like to want to give up?

Hollow. Numb yet in constant pain. Tired. Stuck in the past. Oliver wants to give up. To cease to exist. He refuses to take his own life but he hopes it will be taken from him soon. 

Do you know what it's like to not feel wanted?

No one talks to him. To each other they give laughter, words, hugs, kisses, comfort, joy, blushes, and smiles. To Oliver, they give fear, silence, insecurity, guilt, regret, sorrow, pain, and tears. He feels unwanted. No one's actions contradict that feeling.

Do you know what it's like to fake a smile?

She smiles at every joke. She smiles to comfort others and while she insists she is okay., these smiles are plastic. They mask her true feelings because those feelings would cause others to recoil in disgust. 

Do you know what it feels like to feel sad for no reason?

Tears leak. Pitiful sobs escape. His pain is gushing through the cracks in his usually well-fortified defences. There is no reason for these cracks to appear so suddenly. He was fine just moments ago. Heart being crushed by a sadness and despair so deep that he feels he is drowning. Being pulled beneath the surface so quickly he loses his breath and the will to attempt to resurface.

I know what it's like, and it hurts like hell.

When Bronwyn stares at Oliver she does not imagine he could be in as much pain as her. When Oliver's gaze sweeps over Bronwyn it does not falter. 

He does not imagine that she is drowning just like him. Neither is aware that the other is in a living hell. They both hide it well. Bronwyn prefers her mask. Oliver prefers his walls. The masks crack but the walls are there to protect them. One was hurt by friends. One was hurt by family. Both are filled with self-loathing and an overwhelming sense of worthlessness.

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Time will tell if they survive.

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Time will tell if they will heal.

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Time told that one would not.