𝐓𝐖: 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝!𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.

❝ 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 — 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. ❞

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Complicated.

That’s how you would describe your life. You were laying in bed, completely burnt out despite not doing anything all day. Mentally burnt out. For some reason, you just want to shut out the whole world. Being aware that this cruel world was not all you expected it to be — wars, greed, and all issues of today.

On top of that, you started thinking about death — a tricky, dark topic. Your mind was consumed with questions. How everyone you know and love, will soon die. Even yourself. You couldn’t comprehend growing up and seeing loved ones grow old, eventually dying. Someone your age shouldn’t already have an existential crisis, but here you are.

All these negative thoughts caused you to not take care of yourself. Taking care of your body felt more like a chore, leading you to start neglecting it. Slowly, you were destructing yourself everyday. And your mother, Lana, took note of this.

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It was dark in the room, accompanied by the dim blue light from your phone, laying next to you. The door creaks, light shining through as you see your mother’s silhouette in front of the frame.

Her gaze softened, knowing what you were going through right now. You heavily reminded her of her younger self, it was like looking at a mirror. She was determined to help you and not neglect you like her own mother did to her. She wanted to be the mother that she didn’t have, she didn’t want to send you to a boarding school or repeat the same mistakes her mother made.

She walks over and sat besides you, gently placing her hand on your shoulder. Her eyes analyzed you, seeing just how unhappy and unkept you looked. It hurts her to see you going through this — the same thing she went through when she was younger. “Baby . . . there’s dinner on the table if you wanna eat.”