The true feeling of hopelessness

He scoffed at me and walked away. Since that was the case, I didn't have to continue begging him. I walked out of his apartment, feeling a mix of anger and heartbreak.

I began packing my things, and once I was done, I called someone to help me move. It didn't take more than two hours, and before I knew it, I was already out of the apartment.

I had already found a house in a different area, one with better security, so I could start my life over.

But I had overestimated my ability to handle everything. I was so stressed out. I didn't even have the money to pay my rent, let alone a job. I borrowed some money from my cousin to cover two months of rent, but if I didn't find a job by then, I would be in serious trouble. I knew my family wouldn't be able to help me, especially after the mess I had created. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like I couldn't handle it anymore.

That night, I didn't even have food to eat. I was starving, but I didn't have the energy to cook, nor the means to buy anything. I walked out of the house, not knowing where I was headed. I just needed to clear my mind.

I ended up going to see a friend who owned a pharmacy. There were a few customers waiting in line, so I didn't bother her right away. I just sat in the waiting area, trying to gather my thoughts.

It wasn't long before she came out, holding a glass of water. She smiled at me as she sat down, handing me the water.

"How are you holding on? I'm sorry..." she asked, her voice full of concern.

The moment I saw the worry on her face, I couldn't hold it in anymore. Tears welled up in my eyes, and before I knew it, I was crying uncontrollably. I had kept everything inside for so long, and now I was finally letting it all out.

"I really don't know what will happen," I said, my voice shaking. "I plan to tell my dad when I go home, but... I really don't know how he'll take it. I don't even know what to say..."

I felt completely lost, unsure of what to do next. My life had become a whirlwind of emotions, and I couldn't stop it.

My friend placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, her eyes filled with understanding. "Emma, I know this feels like the end of the world, but it's not. You'll find a way through this, okay? Don't try to handle it all on your own. You have people who care about you."

Her words were soothing, but the weight of my situation still felt too heavy to bear.

"I don't know if I can do this," I whispered.

She gave me a reassuring smile, squeezing my shoulder gently. "One step at a time, okay? You don't have to have all the answers right now."

I nodded, though the tears still flowed. At that moment, I didn't know what the future held, but I knew I couldn't give up. I had to find a way to move forward. For myself, and for the baby.

Despite her reassurance, I couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling that I couldn't do this anymore. The weight of everything—Mark's rejection, my mother's disappointment, the uncertainty of my future—it all felt like it was crushing me. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think straight.

I nodded mechanically as she spoke, but her words didn't reach me. I appreciated her support, but deep down, I felt like I was drowning. The more I tried to hold myself together, the more I felt like I was slipping apart. The world felt suffocating, and I didn't know how much longer I could carry this burden.

As soon as I left her pharmacy, the tears started again. I barely noticed where I was walking, just taking one step after the other as I wandered aimlessly through the streets. Everything felt so distant, as though I was moving through a fog. I knew I needed help, but the thought of facing my family or talking to anyone else felt impossible. I couldn't bear the thought of their judgment, or of continuing to live a life that seemed like it was falling apart at the seams.

In my haze, I found myself standing outside another pharmacy. I didn't know how I got there, but somehow, I walked in. The fluorescent lights were harsh, and the air smelled of antiseptic. I barely noticed the shelves full of products as I moved to the back. My legs felt heavy, as though they were dragging me, and my heart was pounding in my chest.

I walked down the aisle, distracted by the confusion in my mind, when I noticed a small section labeled "Pest Control." My mind briefly registered the fact that I was in a new apartment and had to deal with the usual nuisances—like rats. The thought of pests made my stomach twist in irritation. I couldn't even get away from the stress in my own home, now dealing with a rodent problem on top of everything else.

I didn't think twice before grabbing a small bottle of rat poison from the shelf. My hand was still shaking, but I focused on the task in front of me—getting rid of the rats. It was a simple problem, something I could actually solve. I could control this.

The bottle felt small and insignificant in my hand, but it was a solution, something that didn't make me feel helpless. I walked to the counter, my mind so consumed with my own mess that I didn't even notice the cashier looking at me strangely as I paid for the poison. I didn't care. I was just going through the motions, trying to find something to hold on to in the chaos of my life.