January 3rd, 2014

I like to daydream.

I daydream I have the world’s eyes on my fingertips. Then I would step out for a cigarette. The smoke escapes my lips and it catches a glimpse of heaven. The small light would be enough for the darkness. The light would shine bright, oh I wish I was that light in the night. Oh, how I wish for that cigarette.

In other daydreams, I pretend the world didn’t come to a stop the moment the golden child of this town died. It’s been a year and a half now and everyone is still picking up the pieces. I’ve lost my closest friends and I nearly lost my brother. There hasn’t been a day where I wished Elizabeth was still here. I’ve gone through hell and back and only now can I say I’m able to stand on two feet.

Depression is a beast worth conquering.

My therapist likes to compare it to the ocean. Sometimes it’s calm and soothing but there are days where the waves are unrelenting and unstoppable. I know she means well but sometimes I feel like she isn’t sure what she’s talking about. Still, it’s a decent analogy however cliche it may be.

I think about this as I walk to my next class. I’m stopped when there are kids huddled around in a circle in the middle of the hallway. I don’t get to see but I hear enough to know what’s going on. Alex Elledge, a sophomore is arguing with another sophomore. It takes someone close by to tell everyone around us that the sophomore made fun of Alex’s sister and he’s trying to defend her. People move out of the way beside me when Alex is pushed through the crowd. The circle adapts and now I’m in the center. If it was my brother, Andrew, fighting, it would already be over.

It’s boring and not worth my time and I head to class.

Surprisingly, I’m the first one there. No, I’m wrong. I didn’t notice Jana sitting in the corner by the windows. She’s staring at her desk without a smile or a frown. Her brother was just outside defending her and yet she sulks like she always does. I sit down at the front as everyone else starts to come into class. They’re all gossiping about the fight.

With it being the first day of the new semester, it’s not surprising that our teacher starts us off with a quick reading of the syllabus. Intro to music theory, an elective class where all we do is study music and how it’s written and played. It’s been a while but the teacher actually makes us all stand in a circle and introduce ourselves. She says, “The best way to understand music is to understand each other’s reasons for liking music.”

When it’s my turn, I’m forced to say, “My name is Sara and I want to study music because it helps me fall asleep.” It’s a half truth. I do need music to fall asleep soundly, but that’s not why I’m in this class. I took it so I can get a better understanding on how to play the guitar Virginia got me for Christmas last year. I’m decent at it now, but I know I can get better.

The last person to go is Jana but she refuses to speak. “Jana if you aren’t going to participate you’re in the wrong class,” the teacher says. “Tell us why you love music.”

Jana moves her bangs out of her eyes and I get a clear look at her face. She’s really the one who hasn’t moved on from Elizabeth. “I don’t fucking love music, I use it to escape,” Jana says. All eyes are on the teacher to see what’s going to happen next.

The teacher, Mr. Weber is known to be a bit strict, one of the few teachers who are in this forsaken school. He’s not well liked, but not disliked either. He’s just kind of been there, never really a big bother to anyone. Everyone in class must think that he’s gonna send her to the dean. I watch him gulp down his saliva as he’s about to yell. “Can you please rephrase that? And start with your name please, like everyone else.”

Jana looks down at her eyes then back at Mr. Weber, then a little bit to the left, unable to look him in the eyes. “My name is Freyja and I use music to run away.”

A few of the kids looks at each other confused on why Jana used a fake name. Mr. Weber himself looks at his attendance sheet and then nods at Jana. I don’t none of us has ever heard Jana’s real name before. “Hey, but you’re Jana Kramer,” One of the guys say.

Jana, or rather Freyja is already back in her seat. “Oh come on, you really think Alex and her have different last names?” Someone else says.

“Wait so why is she known as Jana Kramer?” A girl asks.

I think I was told once. Jana liked to quote the real Jana Kramer and sing her songs all the time. She has been known as Jana Kramer ever since her character was introduced in One Tree Hill and no one really knew her real name. It was sort of an inside joke that everyone was in, even the teachers.

My last class of the day is Spanish IV, a class I’ve always shared with Jana, er, Freyja since our freshman year. Funny how I’m just catching myself talking about Freyja a lot now. I never had paid attention to her before, like ever. There was a night when Elizabeth invited her to play a game with us but that was the only time I ever talked to her. Now she’s this recluse that never talks to anyone. It reminds me a lot of how I used to be but it still doesn’t explain why I’m fixated on her. Freyja used to be real cute. I used to have a crush on her. I think I still do. I think I’ve known about it since I started paying attention to her exactly a year ago.

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“Sara!” Grace yells at me. We’re walking home after school and I haven't replied to a single word that Gracie has said. Andrew walks besides us smoking a cigarette. It’s the only thing he’s able to smoke now as her mom doesn’t allow Andrew to be on any drugs. Grace then repeats herself, “When Mom takes you Downtown today, can you pick up some records to listen to?”

“Fuck your vinyl,” Andrew exhales his smokes.

“Okay. Anything in mind?” I ask.

“No. Your taste in music is better.”

Back at home I do homework I was assigned for my first period class real quick as I wait for Virginia to come from work. I could hear the TV downstairs from Andrew and the phone conversation Grace is having with a friend in her room next door. When I’m done, I head over to my computer to check social media. I’ve been doing good to not be active on it as much, but sometimes it's fun to see what everyone is up to. Andrew is still creeping on every girl’s facebook as usual. Grace is becoming more popular as she finds friends who actually like her. I still haven’t posted anything in a year. When I go through my profile, I notice that Emily has unfriended me. It must have been when she left Darkwood for the last time. I can still remember the words she told me, “I don’t want to be apart of this town anymore, so this is goodbye.” I haven’t seen her since. I haven’t talked to her since. I lost my best friend because of the actions of others.

I get off and lay down on my bed. Looking into the past isn’t good for me. It brings me back, it makes me sad. The negative thoughts are quickly repelled by Virginia’s text. She’s here.

“It’s been a while, Sara,” Dr. Fonseca breaks the ice. It’s been three weeks since I’ve seen here. There’s a lot that I want to talk about. “How was your holidays? I hope it was well. Have you relapsed at all?”

“No,” I say at first unsure of my answer. Then I think about it and become sure. “No, Christmas was great.”

“What did you guys do?”

“Mom made us a special dinner, like Thanksgiving but without the nasty turkey. I think that was the first day she didn’t fight with Andrew, er, rather he didn’t fight with her. She was really happy that day, y’know? It’s like she’s finally accepting us as a whole family because all of hers is either dead or estranged. Virginia deserves to be happy, she’s really trying for us to be.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, Sara,” she smiles. Dr. Fonseca has this dimple that compliments her smile well. The doctor herself is a pretty woman in her thirties. The ring on her finger tells me she’s married but I’m unsure if she has any kids. “What about New Years, how was that?”

“Boring. Only Grace celebrated it. Andrew called her stupid for doing so and Mom took away his TV for the day so I thought that was funny.”

“Today you went back to school, how was it? Is everyone still leaving you alone?”

“Boring, nothing has changed really.”

Dr. Fonseca finally writes something on her Ipad. She only does it when I’ve said something concerning. It used to be for everything but this far along in our sessions I think she’s mellowed out. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“Today I found out Jana Kramer’s real name. It’s Freyja Elledge. It’s a pretty name, but she doesn’t talk to anyone anymore. Part of me thinks it's because she still isn’t over Elizabeth’s suicide. But I think I know the real reason.”

“And why’s that?”

“When Elizabeth died, she brought the school's social hierarchy down with her. Everyone was so focused on answers that nobody gave a shit about being popular for a while. People started seeing through all the bullshit and I think Jana, er, Freyja saw who her friends actually were. So now that everything's back to normal, she doesn’t want to go back. It’s sad really. It’s like I see a lot of myself in her and I want to do something about it but I don’t know how,” I pause to allow Dr. Fonseca to speak, but she doesn’t. “I think I’ve always wanted to but I just get so scared. Her brother, Alex got in a fight when some other guy was smearing her name. If he’s still fighting for her, why can’t I?.”

“Did you notice because you feel like you can help her or because you’re afraid history will repeat itself?”

“Did you know the suicide rate in Darkwood is shockingly high for a small town?

“I am aware, yes.”

“There's a total average of 3 per year. The thing is it's mostly adults in their thirties and forties. Two years ago was the only teenager in the last five years. Then there was that married couple last year. The internet has dubbed us ‘the cursed town.’ Not that I blame them.”

“Are you afraid you’ll end up on that list?”

“No. I’m just stating a fact. I haven’t had a suicidal thought in months. What I’m saying is that I can bring that average down. Maybe. I don’t know. But I have to do something.”

“Sara, you’re not obligated to do anything. You can't help others while you yourself are being helped. You can’t love without loving yourself first.” Those words piss me off because I know it’s not true. I know she means well, it’s just sometimes I feel she’s bad at her job.

“I don’t think I need the help anymore. I’ve been fine for a long time now. I’m completely off medication now and look at me. I feel normal for once.”

“Sara. Depression isn’t something that just goes away.”

On my way home, I look at the record I bought for Grace. It’s an old Pink Floyd vinyl. I’m sure she’ll love it. I look over to the sidewalk when Virginia stops at a light. It’s been a bit over a year since Virginia took me in to live with her and her daughter. She’s one of my angels. If it wasn’t for her, I don’t think I would be here by now. At first, she was more like a prison guard, but she was never cruel. She helped me get sober and help me pick up the pieces. And now she’s helping my brother ever since our father was arrested. She’s done so much for us and hasn’t asked for anything in return. I love her.

I think about the past once more even though I shouldn’t. It’s really all I could do as the ride back to Darkwood takes 30 minutes. I think about the week in the hospital where Emily was spending recovering from her gunshot injury. I think about how she ghosted everyone after that and left for New York. Everything that was hanging by a thread was ripped apart that night. It’s a miracle no one died.

Ever since then, I’ve been working to get back to normal, whatever normal is.

My phone vibrates notifying someone tagged me on Facebook. It’s a video posted on our class’ Facebook group. Another video from Bo. Bo is the newspaper club and likes to record parties and make videos out of them. That’s what I at least think when I press the notification to take me to the video.

No.

This is something much more.