For the rest of the day at school, I'm quiet. I don't gossip with Will in maths, I don't laugh at Brains' antics in chemistry, I don't force myself to engage in conversation at the table in the cafeteria. Halfway through lunch, I leave the table and I head to the library so I can escape in one of my books that I have abandoned for too long. I wait for Will to find me, but he never does. We say goodbye to each other when I pass him in the corridor at the end of the day, but that's it. When I sit in my car to drive home, I see him and Blythe walking out of school together.

A sickening feeling spreads in my stomach when I watch them both laugh together. She must be funny. Everyone loves funny people. She flicks her hair behind her back and gives him these doe eyes that anyone would find irresistible. Will's staring deeply into them, and I can't stand to witness any more, so I start my engine and I drive away from him.

I don't cry on the way home. I don't cry when I'm laying in my bed and staring at the ceiling. I don't cry when I read my book and listen to music that doesn't seem to help this time. All my mind can concentrate on is Will.

Will. Will. Will.

And Blythe.

I shouldn't be angry or upset. Will and I have only ever been friends...who hang out at the quarry and go to the arcade and buy chips and borrow each others clothes and tell each other everything. I should be happy, though. Blythe is a nice girl. She's popular, and funny and pretty. She's everything I'm not, which seems to be exactly what Will likes. I will never compare to her, no matter how hard I try. I'm not going to try. I'm not going to pretend to be someone that I'm not.

So I'll keep quiet and I'll force a smile upon my face. I will beam happiness in their direction when they pass me in the corridors and when they do all the things that Will and I used to do. I will do that because I care for Will, and because I am his friend.

I will lie and pretend that I'm not dying inside.

* * *

"Mum?"

I'm playing with my food when I sit opposite my mum for dinner. Spaghetti bolognaise; her favourite meal to cook.

"Yeah?"

"Was I a happy kid?" I ask, no emotion present in my voice or expression.

"What? Yes, of course you were."

My brain works hard as it tries to remember a time when I was happy. Nothing comes to mind. It's all blank.

"I think I should go to therapy," I say, holding my breath and going as red as the fire extinguisher that is placed in the corner of the room.

I'm finally opening up. For the first time in my life, I'm admitting to not being in a good place mentally. It's both terrifying and therapeutic.

"Don't be silly, River. You're fine."

My stomach drops, my shoulders slump. I give up. Maybe she's right. Maybe I am fine.

Maybe I'm just overreacting.

"Okay," I whisper, suddenly feeling numb to the core. I have completely given up. I've lost all hope.

Mum lifts her head and shows off a smile. "Why would you even say that?"

I shrug, suddenly embarrassed. "I don't know. I just haven't been feeling very happy lately...I guess."

Lately. What I really mean is years upon years of low moods and depressing thoughts, emotional numbness, and being stuck in bed for long periods of time because I'm too exhausted to move.

"You seem fine to me," she says.

I seem fine.

I am fine.

I'm making it all up. It's all in my head.

"Everyone feels like that," she adds. "I feel like that all the time. It's normal to feel down."

"Everyone...feels...like this?" I hesitate to ask.

She nods her head, a smile still present.

"So...you can't make it go away? It's...normal?"

When she nods again, my hurt burns and my lungs seize up.

It's normal. I'll feel like this forever. This feeling that crushes my soul will remain for the rest of my life, slowly killing me day by day.

What kind of life is that?

Dinner ends, but my plate is still half full. I've lost my appetite completely after the day I've had. Nothing much even happened, but small things are big to me. I overreact, like always.

Amy is here again. She wants to use every opportunity to spend time with mum and I because her shifts are beginning to take over her life, and soon she won't be able to find the time to see us.

I want to hide in my bedroom so I can sleep and forget about today, but my mind makes me feel guilty for not spending time with Amy. I should appreciate these moments with her. Nothing lasts forever.

Mum and Amy are talking in front of me in the living room. I'm simply sat there staring into space, waiting for the time to pass by so I can escape and think these intrusive thoughts in peace.

I'm in a game of snakes and ladders. I was rolling the dice and climbing up the ladders this past month, but just like that, I've rolled the wrong number and I'm back down to where I first began. All that progress I made was for nothing.

"What's up with you?" Amy asks when mum leaves the room to go to the toilet.

I raise my eyebrows and snap out of thought, returning to reality. "What?"

"You look really...down."

Don't I always? How is she only noticing now? I've been crying out to everyone for years, maybe not in so many words, but I definitely haven't seemed mentally stable.

"I'm fine," I lie in a monotone voice.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I don't cry at her question, I just stare her dead in the eyes and nod my head.

"I'm fine," I lie again.

"Things seem tense between you and mum. Talk to me."

I sigh. "They're not tense, she just said something earlier that has..."

"That has what?"

"Put my mood down."

"What did she say?"

I pause for a moment, staring into the hallway to make sure my mum is still in the bathroom. "I tried to talk to her about how I feel, and she just sort of brushed it off...like it doesn't matter. It just made me feel crappier."

I'm finally opening up to Amy. This is a first. Spending time with Will has seemed to have improved my confidence a little. I guess he's good for me. I hope I'm equally good for him, but now looking back on it, when did I ever actually help him?

I'm a terrible friend.

Amy sighs and moves closer to where I sit, she looks in both of my eyes and plans out what she's about to say in her head.

"Whatever she said, I'm sure she didn't mean it. I don't know if mum's told you, but work has been on her back at the moment. They're making her do extra shifts and working on reception as well as on the floor because they're understaffed. She's been really stressed out and exhausted lately."

I'm an even worse daughter than I thought. I've been too busy thinking about myself, my feelings, on surviving, and on Will, that I haven't spared a single thought for my poor mother who has been working her backside off to support us. I never even realised that she was tired and drained. I never even asked.

"I never realised," I whisper, my entire body caving on me.

I want to punch myself over and over again. I want to scream in my face, just like my dad did when I made mistakes. But my dad is no longer here, so who is supposed to discipline me when I've done something wrong? It became so normal that it's now hard to function without it.

The world is gradually shrinking around me, and it feels like I'm shrinking with it, growing smaller and smaller until eventually I disappear.

Why can't I just disappear? Why can't I escape to a place where everyone is kind and there is no more hurt and no more anger, a place where everyone is safe and free? Why can't that place exist? Why can't I go there? Why am I trapped in a place where I don't belong?

I can't breathe here. The air is wrong.

"Do you want me to talk to her?" Amy offers.

I shake my head that is lowered due to the shame I feel. My posture is cowered and my hands rest pathetically in my lap.

Books. Music. Sleep.

My lifeline.

I need them now. I need them to survive.

"Hey," Amy says, trying to get my attention. "Mum didn't mean to make you feel like this. We say things sometimes, things that we don't think through before we say it. She grew up in a different environment to us, so sometimes she just needs the help to realise things. I can do that, if you want? We can talk to her together?"

I shake my head again, but manage to lift a thankful smile.

"What was it that you told her?"

I stand from the sofa and begin to walk towards the staircase so I can escape in my closet. "It doesn't matter. It's nothing important."

Amy reaches for my hand before I can leave, stalling me. I can't bare to look at her. If I do, I might just fall apart right here.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I'm your sister, I love you."

I nod my head. My throat begins to close up. "I know. Thank you, Amy."

Amy also hates her name, just like Will does. She believes it's too bland. I've come to the conclusion that everyone hates their name, mostly because us humans can never be happy. I most certainly cannot.

She sighs deeply, but it sounds sad. I didn't know a sad sigh even existed, but Amy just proved otherwise.

"I'm sorry," she says. "If I haven't been there for you in the past. I know that I was away a lot in my teenage years, I know I would yell at you to get out of my room whenever you wanted to hang out. I'm sorry for doing that."

"It's okay," I promise her. "I understand."

"I'm worried about you."

My eyes close.

Someone finally realises.

I guess Will did as well. He was the first. But it's weird for one of my family members to actually notice. They've always just believed that I'm shy and quiet, and that's why I keep to myself and never open up to others.

"I'm fine. Really. You don't have to worry about me."

Im screaming at myself to tell her the truth. I trust Amy and I know that she would do everything in her power to help me. But no matter how hard I try, I just can't bring myself to do it. I've became so good at pretending, that now I can't seem to stop.

Being alone became so comfortable that it's hard to let people in.

I'm back at square one.

Oh well. At least it lasted for a little while.

My head is so loud. I want it to shut off. I want all the noise to stop. I'm afraid, if it doesn't, I'll lose it completely.

I'm finally in my room, alone on bed with my earphones plugged in and my music up high. My duvet hugs me, keeping me warm and safe from the horrors of this world. I melt into it. The book in my hand is my only friend in this moment, helping to evaporate all of my struggles.

Freaks, by Surf Curse.

An hour later, my head hits the pillow. I'm finally able to sleep. I get eight hours of blissful peace, my eyes open, reality sinks in.