My lungs burn from the crisp morning air as my feet hit hard on the ground. Deciding to stop running for a moment, I try to calm my breath. The thoughts in my head are starting to become too much. I have to keep them in. I can’t tell them to anyone. If I do, then what would they think of me? Would they be afraid of me or for me? The stories heard, what if I never get to come home? What if they claim me as broken beyond repair?

Am I depressed? Is that what this is?

Hoping a run would help clear my mind and satisfy the need for some kind of pain. I don’t enjoy the self-torment, but at times I wonder if still it’s become an addiction. If the smiles come easily only because the breakdowns in silence help to put everything in perspective. I guess that’s why books with twisted stories have become one of my favorites to read. Hurt, it’s become something I sort of crave at times. Like I can’t feel unless I’m in pain.

The darkness seems to keep creeping its way to me. Begging to be let in. It frightens me to think what would happen if I let go. If I let it have its way and give in. I have to remind myself that being Christian, I can’t let that happen. I have to stay fighting. I’m supposed to be light no matter how appealing the dark may seem.

My eyes catch sight of the long-time vacant house in our neighborhood, it seems as though it no longer is. With a truck in the driveway and the open windows now no longer giving clear site to the inside, it seems as though someone moved in.

I wonder who?

‘What if it’s a boy?!’

‘That would be so cool. Almost like a novel romance. What if you two fall in love, and he takes you away from here? That would be amazing?’

That would be, but this isn’t a book I’m reading. Things don’t get solved so easily by some guy come to save you and take you on an adventure far away. No matter how much I want them to be.

‘Least of all you.’

Yeah. I wouldn’t be so lucky.

Trying for a moment longer to see if I can get a peak of who’s moving in, I finally give up and head home. I still need to clean up before the bus gets here, but my eyes stay glimpsing back at the house. 

It would be nice to have a new friend at least.