Platelets Up
Emily Hogya
The darkness was overwhelming. It was insufferable, intolerable, unbearable, yet it was undoubtedly unconquerable. Swirling, heavy and thick, billowing in stormy clouds of onyx gloom, it enveloped me in its sinister blanket of misery and coldness, a blackness that was insurmountable.
This was that chilling sensation of desolation that, despite all attempts to abandon it, never goes away. A wave of despondency that sweeps through your body, and, no matter how hard you plead, how much you protest, never goes away. A flood of despair that washes through your body, permanently pulsing through your veins, triumphantly coursing through you in success and victory, causing you to collapse in exhaustion and defeat. A darkness that never goes away and never disappears.
This was the darkness that suffocated me. It doused me in its powerful torrent of anguish, smothered my passionate spirit with its chilling cover of dejection. I became a shadow, a blurred gray outline of a being, a mere shape amongst the vivacity of life around me. I averted my eyes from the compassionate gaze of others. I did not need sympathy, nor did I want sympathy, the pity of friends who attempted to understand my sadness but failed. I shuffled along the sidelines of life, acting without the slightest shred of interest, excitement, or happiness. I realized that countless others suffered from this miserable chill, and I knew that many would not plummet into this unhappy, uncaring state; my actions seemed childish compared to the mature response of others in situations like this. However, I did not care. I still was a child, even if I considered myself as an adult most of the time. I simply did not care.
When I had ambled cheerfully into my family's home on a Thursday during that past month of May, everything was perfectly fine. The family of bluebirds that resided in a narrow notch of our roof chirped merrily from their cozy little crevice, and the gentle rustle of the swaying leaves in the great oak trees that surrounded our home harmonized brilliantly with the singing melody of the birds. The radiant beams of the dazzling sun glinted off the miniscule pond of blue-green water that rested beneath the trickling flow of a small fountain. The thick, wooden front door, which gleamed with a fresh coat of lacquer, stood heartily at the entryway of the house, beckoning me to step into the comfort of the dwelling. The vibrant hues of the flowers sprouting around the front porch seemed to have reached the pinnacle of color; nothing in the world was more bright and lively in tint than the blossoming plants. Every facet of nature shimmered with exuberance, and the day was the picture of relaxation and beauty. I strolled leisurely up the four stone stairs that connected the porch and the cobblestone path leading to the house, and then, with a gleeful smile, I opened the front door. A calm breeze blew softly through the doorway into the house, a pleasurably mild yet cooling wind. I beamed again and sauntered further into my home toward the kitchen, leaving the front door ajar.
“Dad, I'm home!” I shouted happily, completely overcome with the bliss of the serene and soothing beauty of the day. My stride was spry and bouncy as I approached the amber frescos on the walls of our kitchen.
My father practically flattened me as he sprinted towards me and threw his arms around me. “Tessa, Tessa, Tessa,” he mumbled repeatedly. He continued murmuring my name in a heavy voice dripping with emotion. He embraced me firmly, holding me tightly to his tall, lanky body. He rubbed my back quickly; it was as if his body was desperately attempting to expel an excessive surplus of energy within him.
“Dad, I'm fine, I'm fine.” I did not know what to say to him, for I was unable to identify the source of his frantic agitation. So, I figured that assuring him of my healthy condition would be the best route to pursue.
“Oh, sweetheart, I know, I know.” My father persistently uttered these words as well, his voice husky and low.
Finally, immensely confused, I pushed myself away from him and gazed at him with inquisitive eyes. “Dad, what's wrong?”