There are moments when I wonder if it'll ever stop. The shouting, the screaming, the words, and the violence. It's like an never ending cycle of it. And I try to push it away. I do. But that's the thing, every time I manage to–it comes back. 

      Over and over again. Pain. Pain. Pain. That was all I could think about. Then I would lose it. The fear would come first. My bedroom walls would turn into metal, pushing and pushing against me trying to break me. And it does break me, but it keeps crushing me not stopping. Next, was the pressure. It hurt so much.

       I didn't know what to do. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, I was dying. I was sure I was dying. I felt my brain shatter and I would scream. Then I hear rushed footsteps barge into my room. At least then, the violence would stop. But not mines. I became it. That's when I lost control. Not in the physical way most people would think, I would lose control mentally. But trust me, it was scarier. I would not move– I couldn't move. I could not see, I could not feel anything. And that was when I died. 

       I woke up staring at a familiar white ceiling. I was at the hospital. I did not react. This was part of routine now. After my breakdowns, I would always wake up here. 

       I felt shaken up. But that wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. I was almost used to it. But the loneliness was still terrifying. I felt locked up in these white rooms, like no one was going to come for me. Like I was completely, utterly–alone.

       I gasped out loud as my body realized it wasn't taking in enough air. I yelped as I saw a mess of blonde, matted hair move from the corner of my vision. 

       "Mer? Are you awake?" I sighed as I recognized that bundle of blonde hair as my mom's head. 

       "Yes." I croaked, throat scratchy and dry.

       My mother's face lightened up in relief. "Oh honey, I'm so, so, so, sorry! I've been–we've been so selfish your father and I. How could I've not known. I'm such a–"

       "Mom, don't. I'll be fine. I am fine," I murmured, attempt at a small smile. "I'm okay." I'm not okay. 

       "Really I am." I added, after seeing her doubtful face. 

       I hated seeing her this. I hated her seeing me like this. No mother should go through this. No one. Especially not her. 

        "I'm so sorry Mer. I'm so sorry." She said. More words were muffled as she took me in for a hug. I melted into it. And I felt my eyes brim with tears.

        "I'm the one–sniffle–who should be sorry, mom. I'm sorry." 

        "Oh no baby. No, no, no, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry about, baby girl. Nothing." I wish that was true.

        "I'm sorry for everything I put you through. You shouldn't have to worry about me. You shouldn't have to." I gulped.

       "I'm sorry for being your burden, mom." Then I exploded into tears. 

       "Mer, you've never been my burden. If anything, you'll always be my star and moon." She said, silently stroking my hair.

       "You have to rest now Mer. I'll see you soon. Be strong." She says softly. I closed my eyes and settles back into the blankets. 

      "My strong, strong, beautiful girl." 

      But strong people don't give up.

       Then I slept.

        AUTHOR'S TALK                                                                                                              

Hurrah! First chapter is finished! I hope you guys enjoyed it! OMG GUYS FIRST OF ALL, CHECK OUT MY CAST lol. IT'S HERE ON A BUTTON SOMEWHERE IDK. So my character Meredith suffers from nervous breakdowns, if you haven't already figured it out. And Yes, this chapter is pretty gloomy, but in my opinion, it's pretty important to feel the characters out first. 

Thank you again for reading! And the next update will be around 1-3 days. Thank you for reading! Have a marvellous day!

–Esmette Taylor