When I returned from my morning jog, I had gotten a missed call from my close friend, Matt. He had asked if I could come with him on a camping trip with some of his friends. I called him back and said, "Sure, do you want me to bring anything?"

"Sure. Bring a sleeping bag and any other essentials." He responded.

I was excited, but I really wasn't. When you think you have depression, this was a year before I was diagnosed, you start scaring yourself. What if I have this? What if I have that? It really does depend on how much you can handle being thrown at you.

My friend Matt was friends with me since middle school, where I needed friends the most. He came from a nice enough family, having an older brother that secretly smoked, and his mom being a drunk. But he was the coolest person I ever knew.

Time passed, and he came to pick me up at my house. My mom kissed me on the forehead and told me to be safe, while my dad patted me on the back and said, "Don't do anything stupid, Phillip."

I ran to the truck, where out the window he waved to me.

"Welcome to the Matt mobile," He said with a grin.

I was in the truck with Matt and a few others. I introduced myself to them, and two of the people were nice enough to manage a shy "Hi." The girl sitting next to me shook my hand and said, "So, how long have you known Matt?"

"S-since middle school." I stammered.

There was one girl riding shotgun, and another sitting where I was sitting, and two other boys in the very back of the truck. They were playing with Pokemon cards and one was trying to talk to the other on how his girlfriend was really hot and how he should see her sometime.

The girl sitting next to me then continued, "So what's your name?"

"Phillip. But you can call me Phil." I said eagerly.

"My name's Rose," She crossed her arms, "Sorry, I'm a little embarrassed about my arms."

I didn't see what was wrong with them. They seemed normal. But as always... Little did I know.