A Lonely Kind of Life

Billie stared at her keyboard blankly, tears threatening to fall from her face. Being stuck in the house with her family all day, every day has been very hard for her. She never had a good relationship with her parents even before the virus, but at least when she was able to go outside with friends, she could escape. Now, there was no escape for the distressed girl. Fights broke out in the house too often. Yelling and screaming, various objects being thrown around the house, sadness, and anxiety—this was her new world. She swears that if she got a penny for how often neighbors would come by, knocking on their door, only to complain about how they can’t go to sleep or their dog keeps barking because her parents were often way too loud for their own good, she would be out of the house, living in a gigantic estate and owning a luxurious yacht, away from her oh so stressful parents. “I wish I can leave and never come back!” her father’s voice echoed in her brain over and over again. This was something he said quite a lot. Then, he would leave the house, go on an hour of two hour drive just to get away from the family for a bit. When he would get back, he would sleep next to her mom, facing away from each other, trying very hard not to accidentally touch even the slighgest bit or talk to each other, even if if was just a small grunt of frustration. And him really abandoning them, like he said? She never knew if he meant it at all. She only knew that it hurt. “You know what happened? We fought again because of you two.” These were words that she had become accustomed to hearing. Her parents would often blow off steam after the fight by putting it all on Billie’s shoulders. It was her fault, always. She was a bad child, always. In a room with the whole family, her and her little sister would exchange words through eye contact, as their parents yelled for hours on end. This was their secret way of communicating, as their parents were never keen to listen to the two girls. It was as if her parents had forgotten that their young hearts could still feel. So, Billie always carried so much weight on her shoulders and never knew how to unload. Because of her situation, she was so often both physically and mentall tired. Taking plenty of naps through out the day, even maybe sleeping the day away, was only normal for her. What was worth waking up to anyway? Not that her mother would not come banging on her door to get out because she was “lazy”.

“What do I even write about?” she thought. Her brain strained for ideas, yet her heart held her back. She was going crazy, with every little thought running so rapidly in her head. At this point, she could fully shut down and she is perfectly okay with that. To her right, her cell phone flashed in her face, notifications and notifications after another. It was that boy again. He had broken her heart a while back. He showered her with the attention that she rarely received and craved so much. However, like the others, he only broke his empty promises to her. The fact that she allowed a boy to break her already so damaged heart made her hate herself more than she already had. The fact that he was never even officially hers made her feel pathetic. This situation was one of the many issues she wanted to talk about. Deep down, she wished to pour her heart out and cry a river in front of her parents. She wanted her friends. She wanted anyone, but even though she knew she wasn’t alone, it felt that there was no one. Wiping a tear from her face, she wondered why it had become so hard for her to talk to her friends about her issues. She used to be so open because they were all she had. Perhaps, she had forgotten how to speak? She sighed in frustration. How was she supposed to finish this assignment when she couldn’t even focus her mind on a single thought? She looked back up at the screen. Her eyes widened upon the realization that she had unknowingly written two paragraphs—a story about herself. It’s interesting how an aching heart and racing mind can have so much power over your body and every action you make.