I shoot up and breathe heavily as the tears fall, I look at my phone, 2am… I try to calm my breathing, but it feels impossible. I suddenly hear my mom’s footsteps creaking, and I cover my mouth to muffle my cries. The door creaks open, and my mom walks in seeing me, a mess in my bed.
“Oh Honey” she says rushing over. I collapse into her arms. I sit there, crying, shaking, wishing I wasn’t here. My mom brushes my hair with her hand trying to keep me calm. I try to steady my breathing as she looks around the room and glaces at the time. I lay back on my bed as she turns on my fan and gives me a kiss on my forehead. She gives me one of the sympathetic looks that I can’t stand, and she heads back to her room.
After she leaves I try to sleep, but I’m scared, scared my demons are going to get me again, scared that as soon as I find peace I will be hunted again. I let my thoughts consume me as I lie there still and completely formless. “Why does this keep happening?” I ask myself,“Why can’t I just be normal?” I try to let my mind rest but I’m so consumed by my anxious thoughts that I shoot back up. Once again the thoughts come to be, “Why can’t I just be like other teenagers,” I sigh a shaky breath and eventually drift off to sleep.
The next day, I go to school and I am hit with immediate dread. I try to avoid the bathroom and locker mirrors around me. Every window I pass, all I see is a dirty, weak, and helpless girl who used to have those bright happy eyes. I try to once again put on a mask because I have to be the strong one for everyone else, but then lunch comes. I’m talking and actually enjoying being around my friends until I see him walk in and over to me. He starts talking to my friends and smirks at me. I feel nauseous. I remind myself that I’m okay, that I’m over it. I tell myself that I can’t make a scene and everything is normal and okay. I tell myself that everything is okay. Then he says my name, I can feel my entire body get tense and my vision slows. I can barely breathe. He can tell that something is wrong, and he decides to push on and reaches over and runs his hand down my arm and gives me his stupid smirk again knowing he’s getting to me, knowing he’s bringing back those memories. I shoot up from my chair as I look around panicked and I start to feel the slow rising of fear take over from my head to my toes. I feel like I am the smallest person in the room and yet everyone is staring at me like they all know what happened. Now he’s smirking, I struggle to see in front of me as tears flood my eyes and pour down my cheeks. I gasp for air but I find nothing. My friend pulls me into the bathroom trying to calm me down. Everything aches in my body. I’m shaking and crying. I hate this. I’ve always been the strong one, the one who anyone can come to when struggling with something, the shoulder to cry on. I can’t be the broken one, my sister needs me, my mom needs me, my friends need me. I just have to be okay.
Night slowly creeps up on me as the worry once again starts. I fall asleep and then their footsteps, their breathing, their smug laughter ready to chase after me again. I run and run trying to get away but they surround me, they catch up with me, flooding me with horrible flashbacks, memories and things I’ve done. I once again scream, shoot up and start crying. My mom’s footsteps rush up the stairs and into my room where she comforts me again. I feel her humming trying to keep me calm as I hold onto her tightly. She’s my anchor, my stability, the only thing I have to protect myself. I drift off to sleep in her arms, and the next morning when I go down I hear her on the phone.
She explains that we’re going to go to a doctor to try and figure out what’s happening to me. Later that afternoon, I got in the car and we went to the therapist where I sat in silence refusing to talk about it, scared that she’d judge me and force me to talk about all of the bad things that I face alone that I won’t even let my mom in on. My mom starts to explain everything as I leave the building not wanting to hear them talk about me and the big problem that I am to everyone around me. I feel like one big burden, and I don’t want to let others in to see that and see the way that I feel and I don’t want anyone let in on these dark memories I have. I didn’t want any of this to happen and I would have never gone out that night if I would have known that it would have caused all of this. I’m supposed to be strong and not have these things bother me. My eyes are glassy as I am consumed in my thoughts when my mom comes out and sits next to me, I look up at her as she sighs. “PTSD,” she says so softly I could have imagined it. I barely look up as she asks “What happened that night” and I shake my head “I’m sorry” I struggle to get the words out as the tears escape from my eyes not wanting to remember and wishing I could just forget it all and feel normal again.