When did the blue skys fade away

Personal Narrative: “What Happened to the
Days with Blue Skies”






“Hello?”
“Christy’s in I.C.U.” … my heart tenses as my brain catches up with the reality.
“Wait, what?....Why?” Like a stifled scream the world fades out around me and all I hear is my sisters voice calmly trying to explain this nightmare to me.
“It happened again.”
“No…” a tear silently cascades off my face, un-noticed.
“How did she do it this time?” I ask.
“On her wrist with the blade and then drug over dosed with like eight tylenol or something crazy like that….”
“I don’t understand. What is with this? Why would she do that? What is going on?!” I squeeze the leg of my jeans without feeling.
“I’m sorry girl, I don’t know either. It is definitely a battle, though. We need to pray and pray hard.” My eyes glance across my brightly painted room, random articles of clothing strewn about in a rush for something not worth worrying about, lingering on the glass of lemonade sitting on my bed side table. As condensation gathers into little droplets and slowly makes its way down merging with other droplets until sticky wet ring emerges around the bottom of the glass, leaving a sickly sweet taste on my tounge.
“Yeah” ---- “Can we visit her?” My fingers clench at nothing, harder and harder until my knuckles turn white.
“No, not in ICU. And then she is probably going to be sent to the psyche ward so they can keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t attempt killing herself again.”
“MY BEST FRIEND IS NOT INSANE!.” *click* I crush the phone closed in my hand as my words crumble into sobs. I don’t understand.

I don’t understand. I don’t understand how this ‘cancer’ could overcome my best friend like this. I try to see things from where is but light evades me, as the darkness envelopes me.
My fingers, numb, search through piles of letters stuffed in a container and left underneath the bed. There – wrinkled and tear stained, I find a note she wrote for me a while ago when I was afraid. Afraid of what was beginning to happen, as she pushed me away leaving me only with these words…
“As a tide encroaching on new sand, this disease overtook me. There was not much I could do to stop it. Sure, I tried all the barriers, logs, sea weed, even castles… and yet the tide washed over me. Drenched me. Stifled me. All the sand that I had been clenching so tightly slipped between my fingers. Everything hurt and there was no way to stop the pain as my hot tears drip down on my red, calloused wrists, I wonder if I will ever feel anything again. The picture of stoicism, I set the blade to my wrist feeling the pulsating life as I keep my muscles taught; utterly consumed by the sting. The neat stream of blood runs off my black painted fingernails and onto my tile bathroom floor… but the pain still engulfs me. Doubts assail me and I wonder if its worth is, but I know no other way. Would anyone even notice? Would anyone even care? Long sleeve shirts and a perfect smile is all I need to mask my shattering heart. If only they’d take the time to look in my eyes, how could they not see that my life’s crashing down all around me.? What happened to the days with blue skies that stretched to the stars? Now all I see is the never ending sea of hurt, as my sand castles spend their time collapsing. I was a self made picture of joy, now all the mascara is smeared. I am stuck in the narrow isthmus between heaven and hell,…earth. This place that holds so much beauty, how come all I feel is pain? And I can’t overcome it, it rises up in me until there is nothing else to do but let it out. Let it out in a red stream of hurt running across the cold bathroom tiles; will anyone care? Why can’t they see? As the tapestry is woven, … or as it unravels; I’m screaming.”
And I was terrified.
Why? Angry tears cascade off my face and drench the already saturated pillow case. I punch harder and harder at nothing but cotton and feathers until, exhausted I begin to question. Why? What would happen to get someone to the point of feeling this way? What evil spirit could overtake such and innocent girl, scheming her into believing there is nothing to live for?... but then I think again… What is there? Why not? Honestly, what even keeps someone from feeling like this? … Why do people even wake up in the morning? Why do I?... I have a hope. My heart begins to rise from its holding place near the depths of my stomach, quivering as I come to the realization. I have something to look to beyond this world and life. I know there’s more. There’s got to be. More than…. The American dream. More than people. More than doing good…. Sure, you can do your best to leave your mark on this world. Make it a better place… why not? But in the end, what’s going to happen to the world?.
There’s more.