Hear Me Cry

Chapter 1



Cigarette smell as caustic as the demons rotting away at her insides. The lights too bright, noises too loud. Her thoughts were rapid, spinning out of control. Stuck to the chair as if she was glued to it, wanting to run, afraid to stay but afraid to go. She heard it in her brain over and over.... "The next spin; I will win with the next spin. It's due to hit!" The wheels of the slot machine spinning, spinning, round and round; a mirror of her life. "It will hit! I will win on the next spin! This machine is due to hit!"

It didn't. The cash was gone; the rent unpaid, credit cards maxed out. Her head reeling from the alcohol and cigarette smoke, the hatred boiling in her veins for those winning around her, their laughter slicing at her brain like a butcher cutting a slab of meat. She deserved to win, she'd earned it. It was her time, not theirs.

The road that brought her to this point was long and rocky. The hidden sickness lying just below the surface waiting to be released, sending her to this nightmare, this hell on earth. Never living for the day but floating in memories and torment of the past or escaping the madness and pain with fantasies of tomorrow.

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Chapter 2



The walls begin closing in. The pressure coming from within the deepest part of her soul. It is an ache that is felt within every bone in her body. Seven calls to various hotlines, put on hold or automated voices telling her someone will be right with her. The seventh call, no on even answered. Her counselor has dumped her; paid to help people but finding she is impossible to work with, impossible to help. This very morning she had awoken so elated, riding a high like no other. Then like the waves at high tide, it all came crashing in. Feeling like the small crab running back and forth, running in circles trying to avoid the next crashing wave or the dog chasing his tail. It is impossible for her to catch a breath. Every time she begins to breath, the breath is taken away by another wave, another bad decision.

It was payday, rent got paid! The last $250 remaining in the account spent on the "chase". The "It will hit" chase that never pays off. Driving, not really focusing on the road; but attempting to reach out. Calling out, NO......screaming out for help. No one there. One bad choice after another. When will she learn? Will the wave catch her, overwhelm her to the point of taking her last breath or will she just keep running in circles, over and over again; with no end in sight? Suicide, is it an option? No, she's not even brave enough to end it. But why? What is she holding on to?

Addiction, mental health issues, fears, depression, heartbreak. She wasn't living before, but she was surviving. It had always been a false life, a pretend happiness. Was there ever a time she was truly happy, content or was it always a game, a facade? What really makes her happy? What brings joy? There were temporary pleasures, a glimmer of sanity. Why couldn't it ever last? Why was she so broken?

She screamed for help over and over again. The help was always right there at her fingertips. She wanted the help, needed the help; but when it came she turned it away. She was always afraid of getting the help she knew she most desperately needed. Calling out and then running from what she needed most, help. She blamed everyone but herself. She would get right there, right at the precipice of help and then....turn it away; over and over again until those who wanted to help; were even trained to help, no longer wanted to help her. How it ends is still unknown.....at least at this moment....



Her story.........



Chapter 3



Oftentimes fear comes from the unknown. Just as easily however, it comes from experience. Sarah experienced more than was left unknown. Fear for her came early. Memories too fragmented to truly put together. The past left her disjointed, confused, and unable to piece together the story of her life. Who was she supposed to be, become?

It began early; memories so confused like a puzzle without the final piece. Nothing in life seemed easy to Sarah. Everything became a challenge, a conundrum to solve or a competition to win. As long as she could remember, she had to be the best, had to please all those within her world. A challenge impossible to pass.

The confusion of who and what she was began at a very early age. Sarah wanted nothing more than to be like all of the other little girls on the playground, all dolled up and gushing over the blue eyed boys with their blood hair and supposed cooties. Instead Sarah often found herself alone at the schoolyard, eyes buried deep within the book she was reading. An escape from reality at the tender age of seven or eight. School was no different for her than any of her classmates. At least not in her eyes. But Sarah did remember watching the other children on the playground, swinging on the monkey bars while she was outside the circle. This became a permanent fixture in her make-up, looking in from the outside; never truly believing she belonged or was worthy of their love.



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