We All Wear Masks

Stacy stared at the bright screen. The words “We’re through” were at the bottom. The words seemed to pierce through her heart. It wasn’t necessarily the words that hurt. She had been through breakups before. This was the first that had involved a boy she thought was, “The One”.
She had heard other girls talk about the one guy for them, or at least what they imagined they should be like. She usually ignored them but now that she knew that Danny was the perfect one, this one simple text was a killer. They had been going strong for a good six months, and then he just ups and texts her out of the blue like that, saying that they’re through, with no sort of explanation?
Stacy lay there in her bed staring at the ceiling. Her phone lay face down on her chest, a faint trace of visible white light trying to escape. Her long brown hair splayed out underneath her like a fan, reaching down to the small of her back. She closed her eyes trying to think of what went wrong, but images of Danny kept filling her mind, his laugh, his eyes. The way he’d just sit quietly with her under the stars. He was very talkative, always wanting to talk about things that she didn’t have slightest clue about, but it made him happy and she listened all the same. And when she needed him to be quiet he did and didn’t question (usually) and stayed with her all the same.
Stacy opened her eyes and the face of the one she thought would stay, washed away like a figure of sand. Her eyes glistened as tears began forming a film on her striking blue eyes. She rolled to her left side, towards the window, and closed her eyes again attempting to push the thoughts of him away. She hardly slept that night.
----
Stacy had never had much self-confidence. Even though she was deemed the pretty girl in high school she was always convincing herself that she was unwanted by anyone, even her parents. The truth was, she intimidated the other guys with her beauty, and her parents were always working. None of this was her fault directly, yet she blamed it on herself all the same.
It was two mornings after the text and she was now standing in front of a mirror. She looked at herself in the full body mirror. She saw her brown hair reaching the small of her back. She wore a simple pink T-shirt with the edges of a maroon bra peeking over the edge. Her eyes moved down and she looked at her bare legs. They seemed strangely pale but that could’ve been due to the fact that she wasn’t wearing any pants with the only contrasting color being a maroon pair of underwear.
She had bags under her eyes from her lack of sleep, and an excess of time telling herself that it was her own fault that things had turned out the way it had. She slowly walking to the corner of the room that had a stool and stood on it. After standing there with her eyes closed for ten minutes, she drew in a deep breath through her nose, and walked out of her room. She came back several minutes later carrying something long and cumbersome. She draped it around the connecting bar between the ceiling and the fan, and fashioned it into a loop. She slowly slipped it over her head.
A last whisper escaped from her lips to be heard by the nothingness, the floor, the walls, the thoughts that told her she wasn’t good enough, Danny, “I loved you Danny.”
She tilted the stool over and hung herself. Everything was silent.
----
Riiiiiinnnnnggggg. Riiiiiinnnnnggggg. Riiiiiinnnnnggggg. Riiiiiinnnnnggggg.
Riiiiiinnnnnggggg. Riiiiiinnnnnggggg. Riiiiiinnnnnggggg. Riiiiiinnnnnggggg. 
Riiiiiinnnn-click!
“Uh hey, it’s Danny. I tried calling your cell but you didn’t answer. I thought maybe you left it at work. Anyway, I wanted to apologize. I’ve been busy at work and I think Derek sent you that text as a prank and I just saw that text. Sorry again. Uh, call me when you get this! Kay, bye!”
Click.
“No new messages.”
Category:Mental Illness