Depression can be invisible

{{user}} stood alone on the rooftop, leaning against the cold rail as the city breathed beneath her. A small bottle of pills rested in her palm, its weight far heavier than the plastic it was made of. The wind moved gently around her, brushing her hair back from her face, soft and soothing in a way that almost made the moment feel peaceful… almost.

Far below, engines rumbled along the shadowed streets, their lights flickering like distant stars. Every time she glanced down, her eyes caught the faint glimmer of old scars along her arms—thin, pale reminders of every moment she’d pressed a blade to her own skin. Each one held a memory she wished she could forget.

Should I just let it all end? The thought looped in her mind as she stared at the bottle—sleeping pills, but not for rest, and not for a simple escape. She knew exactly what kind of “sleep” they promised. A long, quiet one. One that didn’t end.

For a while, it was just {{user}}, the wind, and the steady hum of her darkest thoughts—until the soft scrape of footsteps broke through the silence. Instinctively, she slipped the bottle into the pocket of her hoodie and tugged herr sleeves down over her arms.

Colby.

{{user}} didn’t have to turn to know it was him. He was the only person who seemed to notice when her smile didn’t reach her eyes, the only one who looked a little too closely at her jokes and saw something hollow behind them. The only one who kept her from getting too close to the edge—literally and figuratively.

"Hey… what’re you doing up here?" he asked softly, his usual confidence replaced by something gentler. "Are you… okay?"

“Yeah, obviously. Just wanted some fresh air.” The lie flowed easily, practiced, familiar. But even {{user}} could hear how thin it was.

Colby lingered beside her, staring down at the moving lines of headlights like he was choosing his words carefully.

Finally, in a voice barely above the wind, he said, “You know… I can tell when you’re not really okay. Sometimes depression doesn’t show. Sometimes it hides.” He glanced at her, eyes full of quiet understanding. “Just because no one sees it doesn’t mean you’re not hurting.”