Disconnect

by Rebeca56

            ‘Aren’t
you tired of just surviving? Don’t you want to live a little? Don’t you ever
get bored of just staying in one place, doing the same things over and over
again? Why don’t you try to do something else? A fresh start, maybe.’



            There was no such thing as a fresh start and every single “you should
start living, not just surviving” was a cheap, useless cliché. You can start
doing different things for a day, two, maybe three, but at the end of the week
you will end up in the same place as before. People don’t change so easily. You
can’t start a new life and start doing everything differently. At some point,
the old habits you used to have will come back, dragging you down again. The
truth is that no one can change completely. So what was the point?



            What was the point of going on
trapped inside your mind which will never give you peace? What was the point of
trying to survive when things were only getting worse? Everything was so
useless.



            The phone started vibrating on the
passenger’s seat. The screen lighted up showing the letters “MOM” on it. But
Clara wasn’t going to answer it. There was no point in talking to her mother,
not then. And, even if she did talk to her, the discussion would most probably
be composed from some simple words like “yes” or “no”. Her mind wasn’t able to
find something better to say.



            ‘All
I’m asking is for you to make your bed. Come on, love, just the bed and I’ll
leave you alone for the whole day. I promise. But please, just stand up for me
and do this.’



            The road was empty. She was the only one
driving at that hour of the night. But that was just fine. She didn’t have to
try and concentrate too much on what she was doing. It was just like she was on
autopilot, like her mind wasn’t even presents. She was doing the commands, but
her brain wasn’t concentrating on them. Her brain wasn’t concentrating at all.
Or, at least, that’s what she felt.



            ‘I
can’t stand it and there’s no point in lying about this! She is gone, get that
inside your head! SHE’S A FUCKING VEGETABLE.’



            ‘She
can hear you, lower your voice!’



            ‘What
difference will it make, she does nothing anyway! And maybe she
should
hear me! Maybe she should understand that her fucking “illness” is tearing us
apart! It’s not depression, she has no fucking reason to be depressed, she has
fucking everything!’



            Her heart ached for a bit, but the apathy came
back right away. Those words were meaningless now. Those words were no longer
hurting. Because it did not matter anymore. Her dad would live the life he
wanted in the end, with a beautiful wife and a daughter that was perfectly normal. The family he always dreamed of.
Everything was going to be perfect for everyone, finally.



            The phone started vibrating again.
Clara reached out for it and put it on silent. Her mother was going to call for
another twenty times, she was sure of it and she didn’t want to hear those
vibrating sounds again. She was trying to concentrate on the radio. The music
at that hour was nice and calming. Old songs that were ignored during the day.
The phone was still ringing, but it couldn’t be heard anymore. It was just
ignored while ‘I wanna dance with somebody’ was playing.



            The night was dark and so cold, but
it was warm and nice inside the car. It was like one of those road trips when
you wake up before the sun rises and arrive at the beach late in the morning.
Those road trips that were so exciting for children. She could almost see the
sand and the sea in the distance. It was a foolish though and a foolish image,
but it was nice to know that she had been there and she enjoyed it. She was
four maybe, and she was so full of energy and so excited to go to the beach for
the first time. She cried when her foot hit a stone and when her tummy was
hurting because of all the ice cream she have eaten. But she loved the waves
and the seagulls. She loved the warm weather and the sand castle she and her
mother made with little seashells for the windows.



            Now she loved the cold. She was ok
with walking in the rain and with clouds hiding the sun. Ok, maybe “loved” was
not the best word to describe what she felt. She simply couldn’t stand the sun
anymore. It was too bright and so exhausting. She hated summer and she wasn’t
feeling good at the beach anymore. She couldn’t stand the loud sounds around
her and all of those people. It was like her energy was stolen by that kind of
atmosphere. Like the ground simply tried to put her down, to attract her and
make her lie on the ground and stay there. Everything was moving too fast and
she just wasn’t able to keep up with it.



            ‘Daddy
says that you’re just lazy, you know? Maybe you should try and do something,
like the rest of us. You should listen to your parents and do what they say,
that’s what my teacher says.’



            Clara was eight when her sister came
into the family. Mia was a good kid and she was loved by the whole family.
Clara loved her a lot, but she couldn’t talk to her so much, even if they were
living in the same house. They were too different, after all. But that wasn’t necessary
a bad thing. They were never going to be best friends, but they were getting
along pretty well, so it didn’t really matter. Mia was so bright and happy. She
was cute and nice. She was just from outside the world Clara was living in. She
couldn’t reach for her sister.



            Clara took a right turn. She didn’t
know where the road was leading to, but she didn’t really care. She just wanted
to drive, even though her eyes were heavy and her head started to feel dizzy.
It was a nice sensation and it reminded her of the time when she was 16 and
started getting drunk. The feeling of slowly losing yourself. She wanted that,
but alcohol tasted disgusting in the morning and, sometimes, even in the same night.
She was sneaking out of the house with a bottle stolen from home, but that
feeling never lasted enough. And, when the morning arrived, she was always
feeling even more miserable than before. That was not living. That was not even
surviving. That was running. That was her scream for help. But it was too
quiet.



            ‘Just
leave me alone, ok? I had a bad day and that’s all, it was just so I could calm
down. I wanted to just calm down.’



            ‘No!
No way! There are so many ways in which you can calm down, but look at you!
LOOK AT YOUR ARMS!’



 ‘There is nothing wrong with my arms!’



            ‘THEY ARE ALMOST BLEEDING!’



            ‘I HAD A BAD DAY!’



            ‘SO YOU RIPPED OUT YOUR SKIN?!’



            She had many bad days, but lately
her arms were in quite of a good condition. Maybe because her mother wrapped
them in bandage and she just couldn’t take it off. She was too exhausted to do
it.



            ‘I
JUST WANT YOU TO BE NORMAL!’



            ‘I
AM NORMAL!’



            ‘NORMAL
KIDS DON’T DO THAT!’



            Her hands started shaking. She tried to
hold onto the steering wheel for as long as she could. For the first time since
she left home that night she tried to concentrate on the road.



            ‘Why
don’t you just try?’



            ‘I
am trying.’



            ‘No,
you’re not.’



            ‘If
you don’t even listen to me, why are you asking me?’



            Truth be told, the nights started being
too cold for her. And she was so tired of it. Every night in which she tried to
control her breath and be silent. Every day in which it was so hard to stay on
her own feet. Every day lost in her bed with plates full of food on the floor
of her room. Every single tear that refused to come lately. So many weeks have
passed and she just couldn’t cry anymore. She just stopped feeling at some
point and it was draining her soul. She was just lost in a dark corner and no
one saw it. No one noticed that her voice was heard more and more absent, until
she stopped talking.



            ‘WHAT
THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? WHAT?’



            ‘YOU
DON’T EVEN TALK TO HER ANYMORE!’



            ‘SHE
NEEDS TO GROW UP THAT’S WHAT SHE NEEDS!’



            The world seemed to shake for a moment.
The road was moving and Clara started trembling while drops of sweat started
forming on her forehead. It was time. For the first time in forever she could
finally feel some tears on her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she was crying because
of joy or sadness. She noticed that the song on the radio has changed.



‘But you didn’t have to cut me of…’



Her voice sounded rusty and it felt so wrong to hear
it out loud and along with the singer’s voice. But it was the last time, so she
tried to continue. She tried to get the strength she used to have. She tried to
collect just enough pieces to keep her going. Her mind felt broken and hurt.



‘And I don’t even need your love…’



She couldn’t stand that song when she was young, but
it did not matter anymore. The words were meaningless now. Not a single word in
the whole world could have changed what was happening. She was expecting more,
some kind of epic feeling or a black whole taking her in. But nothing happened.
There was no last minute act of salvation. No hero or God looking at her. She
was alone. She was left alone.



            ‘What do you think you’re doing?’



‘Nothing.’



‘You’re lying to me, what
do you have in your hand? What are you going to do with those pills?’



            ‘Nothing.’



            Pills that were made from plants
were the best. This things couldn’t kill you, but made you feel like a walking
dead instead. It was like you weren’t really living.



            ‘But you didn’t have to stoop so low…’



            All of her muscles felt numb for a
moment and her breath accelerated. It was time, so she pushed her foot on the
acceleration. She stopped hearing the song. Her heart jumped a beat and her
brain finally woke up. She was feeling an intense urge to just scratch her arms
until she felt better. It was the only method she discovered that helped her to
calm down. She liked the pain that made her feel alive. The pain reminded her
that there was something outside her mind. But there was no pain in that
moment. There was just her and the car, her and her mind, her and that wreck of
a person she remained. And there were no words to describe the feeling of
tiredness that took over her. No way of describing the way in which she was
consumed by her own damn dysfunctional brain. So she hoped that everything
would stop while she tried to disconnect from everything, just like she used to
do on a daily basis in order to be able to walk next to other people.



She
started fading away.



            She took a deep breath.



            She closed her eyes.



            And she let go.

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