15) Don't you see?: Emma

With quivering hands, Emma picked up her phone and held it to her ear. She felt as though everything was dark and black.

The world seemed to be crushing her. She felt as though she was Atlas with the world upon her thin, bony shoulders. She was weak. She was numb, but not numb enough to not feel the emotional pain that tormented her.

It was sickening. Life was sickening. It was sickening how she made the only person who cared about her feel worried. She was disgusting.

Emma felt sick to her stomach. It felt as if there was acid with in her. It was burning her, burning her worse than any cut had ever burned her before. It was agonising and it felt as if the only escape was death.

It had been coming for a while, but it had no cause, just triggers. Then again, everything triggered her when she felt like this, there was no escape. Katrina with her unkind words was a trigger, Mom's scolding was triggering. Everything was a trigger.

She had always felt this way, just never been brave enough to actually do it, never had the heart to kill herself, but she was sick of it now. She wanted to die and get away from this cruel, unkind world.

Away from the people who hated her, away from the people who hurt her. She just wanted to be dead. To feel nothing, to hear nothing, to see nothing. She just wanted her life to be over. Besides, who would miss her?

"Hello, Emma? Are you there?"

Bailey's voice radiated out of the speaker on Emma's cellphone. She could hear the concern in her friend's voice, but she was certain that she was more trouble alive than dead. Bailey would thank her eventually, even if it took time.

Bailey did not really care about her, it was just not possible. She was a burden to Bailey, just like she was a burden to the world.

"Emma? Are you there?"

"Yes."

She could only answer shortly for fear that Bailey would hear the distinct quiver in her voice.

"Where are you right now?"

"In my bedroom."

"What are you doing"

"Holding the kitchen knife. Contemplating death."

The knife felt cool and sharp against her scarred skin. She ran the knife over her skin a couple times, allowing the sharpened jagged edges to bite into her. It felt good. It felt better than the depression she faced, and she desired to go deeper.

It's glinting, silver body, gliding over her skin, leaving it's foot prints on her thin wrists, its bite marks, its signature.

She pressed harder into her skin. The knife's rough edges digging deeper, like the claws of an angry cat. It hurt, but the pain was soothing, relaxing almost.

The harder the serrations of the knife were pressed into her skin, the further back the cloud of darkness crept. So she pressed harder.

"Emma, I know that things seem really really bad right now, but they will get better, I will help you make them better! Don't do anything to yourself, please! You are so valuable, Emma!"

Bailey sounded so sincere, but Emma was unable to believe what she was saying. The words felt like stones being thrown against her body. The words hurt. She did not want to be convinced otherwise. She wanted to die.

Emma was not on any medication for her depression. Mom did not believe in taking medication, and refused to give her daughter anything, but she did not know how Emma struggled.

Mom believed that it was all in Emma's head, which was true in a way. It was in Emma's head, it was a chemical imbalance in her brain, a disorder that needed medication to be resolved.

She had always believed that the voices were part of her depression and anxiety, and she knew that they were in her head, but sometimes she felt lost within them. It was as if they swallowed her up and she was unable to escape.

Emma was not sure if the voices were normal, but she wished that they did not exist. It made her feel crazy, and as if she should belong in a mental institute. She wished that she could take medication to make them go away.

Emma had asked Mom once. Asked her if she could see a psychologist and take medication to make her anxiety and depression just a little bit better, but Mom had ridiculed her and told her that she was making it up.

She had said that depression was just part of the life of a teenager and that it was not that bad. She just had to stop using her phone so much and it would get better. Mom did not understand that her phone was the only connection that she had to help. The only way that she could make herself laugh with funny, yet dark depression memes. Mom did not realise that Emma's phone was an aid not a hindrance.

Emma knew that what Mom said about depression was not true. Depression was a mental disorder caused by an imbalance of chemicals in ones brain, not by cellphones or any other technology, but Mom never understood.

Mom also said that it was because Emma did not spend enough time outside and had made Emma go for a walk every day, but not even that helped. Nothing helped. Maybe Mom would see the truth when Emma was dead.

"I will speak to your mother about getting you on medication myself!" Bailey pleaded

"Bailey, are you crying?"

Bailey's voice was quivering, and Emma was sure that she had heard some sniffing coming from the phone. It sounded very much like Bailey was crying, but what would she be crying about?

"Yes, what do you think! I could possibly lose my only friend! Don't you understand how important you are to me?"

"You have other people, and you are really nice. You wont have any problem with finding friends."

Emma did not understand it. Why was Bailey crying over her? Why was she so upset that Emma wanted to die? They barely knew each other, and Bailey was such a great person. She did not need a burden like Emma hanging around her.

She would wear her down, make her a wet blanket like she was. Bailey deserved to have a better friend than a stupid girl who was always depressed.

"Sorry for making you cry..."

"Just don't kill yourself, please Emma! I will help you! I promise that I will help you!"

"You can't help me, nobody can!"

"That is not true! Medication is great. It has helped me so much! You still have so much to look forward to Emma! You are going to be a great success, an inspiration to the world! Don't waste your life like this Emma, please!"

"You are just making things up, I am going to be a failure. I just don't want to suffer like this anymore, Bailey. I cannot bear it! I can't live like this!"

"You won't suffer! I will help you, Emma! I swear, I will not leave you!"

Bailey was really sobbing now, and it began to affect Emma a little bit. She still did not see that she was valuable, but she realised that Bailey cared about her, which was a new idea to her.

"Put the knife down, Emma. Please! Go put it back in the kitchen."

Emma looked at the knife in her hands, she touched it's sharp blade. She was reluctant, but Bailey was persistent.

It was strange, she still felt like dying, but death no longer seemed the only solution. She felt calmer, not happier, but slightly less like a waste of space.

"What will happen if you are dead, Emma? Imagine how upset your mother is going to be! Don't hurt her like that. Don't hurt me like that! I care about you Bailey, and your family cares about you. You are important to so many people."

Emma thought for a bit, Bailey was right. Her mother would be very upset, and judging from the situation now, so would Bailey. She could not bear to hurt anyone. She would rather be hurt herself than have someone else be hurt because of her.

"Why do you care so much Bailey? I am just a stupid girl with no real place in this world. What does it matter to you whether I am dead or alive?"

"Why don't you see it, Emma... I have feelings for you...!"