Counting Down

I don't know when exactly it all started. Maybe it started last year, maybe last month, maybe it started when I was born. It's hard to say. I do know one thing, this past month was hell.1

The depression got really bad at the beginning of the month. Nothing seemed fun or worth it anymore. I stopped caring about school, I stopped caring about my future, I stopped caring about how I looked. I would sit in school and count the minutes until class ended, then I would go to my next class and count the minutes until that class ended. Once I got home I would count the minutes until I could go to bed. Once I was in bed I would lay there not sleeping and count the minutes until the morning when I would start counting all over again.2

Life sucked. There was no point to anything. 3

In school I didn't do any work. At home I didn't do anything for fun.4

"Do you want to play video games or go outside?" Mom started to ask me every time she saw me sitting in my room staring at the clock ticking by the minutes.5

I would shrug, shake my head, and turn my attention back to the clock. It was vitally important that mom didn't distract me from what number I was on. If I messed up my counting and got out of sync with the clock I would have to start all over again.6

Mom kept telling me at dinner that she was worried about me. Dad agreed and asked if there was anything wrong. I didn't bother to tell them that everything was wrong because the world was a sucky place and there was nothing left to do but count away the time until we died. I just told them I was fine and continued to ignore my mashed potatoes and meatloaf so that I could count away more time.7

The teachers were getting mad at me for not doing any work.8

"You have so much potential, I just hate to see you waste it by sitting there staring at the clock in class instead of paying attention." Mr. Frances told me after Language Arts one day.9

A few days later I found myself sitting in the guidance counselors office with Mr. Frances, and my parents.10

They were driving me crazy with all their talk of wasted potential so I finally explained myself.11

"It's not worth it, nothing's worth it, we're all just going to wind up decompsing in the same graveyard so why does it matter if I do well in tenth grade or not?" I snapped back at my shocked audience.12

Everyone was silent for a while. Finally Scott, the guidance counselor spoke.13

"I think you are depressed right now. It's normal to be depressed sometimes, but you need to find some purpose in your life. Finding a purpose will make you feel much better and much less depressed. Maybe you can take up music, or painting, or writing. Just find something that you want to live for." He told me.14

I laughed at their faces and just got up and walked out. I walked for awhile. When I finally stopped walking I was no longer in the school at all. I had no idead where I was at all. For the first time in almost a month I found myself feeling an emotion other then a numbing worthless depressed feeling. I was scared.15

Outside it was getting dark out and I was somewhere downtown. There were some homeless old man drinking out of brown paper bags and having a raucous argument nearby. That was when the sky began talking to me.16

"One two three, you are in troouble, four five six, if we get to ten you'll be dead, seven eight..."17

I stopped walking and put my fingers in my ears so the sky would shut up. Even though I always was counting down until death I realized there had to be more I could do before I died. I didn't want the sky to get to ten.18

"Stopppp!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Don't count. Stoppp!"19

The counting stopped I took a deep breath. Everyone was staring at me now. I took off running for the second time that day. The sky was laughing at me. The homeless men were going to start chasing me any minute.20

Part of me knew something was wrong. The sky shouldn't start talking, but another part of me knew that it was just a fact that the sky was talking and I accepted that as reality.21

"You're going crazy. Hazy. Lazy. Oopsy Daisy."22

Voices roared in my ears. There was an empty and dark store up ahead. Suddenly I knew with certainty that I had to break in. It was the only that I would be saved from the craziness that was following me. Theh sky had started counting again. If it got to ten I'd be dead. I didn't want to be dead. 23

Wildly my eyes darted around. There was a rather large rock on the ground. I picked it up and heaved it at the store window. The window shattered in to pieces. I dove through the mess of glass not feeling myself getting all scraped and cut up.24

In an attempt to confuse the sky I started counting down from one hundred. I didn't hear the store alarm piercing through the night air. I just sat in the pool of glass rocking back and forth and counting down.25

I didn't see the police cars coming. I didn't hear there shouting at me to come out with my arms up. I was in my own little world with numbers echoing all around me. 26

When I raised my arms into the air with glass in one hand the police panicked. They thought the glinting of glass in the dark night was a hand gun aimed at them. I didn't feel the bullet hit my arm. Blood blossomed out. Collapsing on the ground, I was still counting down when the police came running over. 27