My Thoughts Put Into A Story

Four years old; bright, energetic, smart. Completely unaware of his sister’s depression. “She had a fight with Captain Hook.” he says, pointing to her wrist while talking midst his friends.

Nineteen years old; musician, smart, engaged. Fully aware of the side effects of her new medication. “They’re not working, they’re making it worse.” She tells her therapist.

Two weeks later, he runs to her room, excited to tell her about his day at school. But… her door was shut. It was never shut. He opens the door; she’s dangling from a rope, her face contorted. “Sissy, sissy, wake up!” He starts crying when she doesn’t wake. “Mommy, sissy tried to fly but she fell asleep and won’t wake up!”

A death certificate, funeral, and ten years later, something changes. The bright young boy turns dark and cold. “My sister died from a disease called Depression. I have to stay strong for her.” he said, slowly bleeding it out…