We engaged in intellect.
Sharing are stories of pain, sadness and happiness.
Though the room was lit by candles of a low flame, soft Indian meditational tribe flutes played in the distance, and the aroma of chocolate cookies to help drown us deeper into our mere depression that we as individuals only noticed on each other yet couldn't find it in..
ourselves
We were strong, who were we to cry?
She told me of her father.
A man of great wisdom.
A man with mental conditions.
She blamed him for some of the things that should never happen to a little girl, he wasn't there, who was there to protect her?
She was uneasy..
She told me of her brother.
A young man of genes.
A deceiver.
Why was she the only one to see his wrongs that her mother was oblivious too.
She became cold, bitter and angry.
Like a switch, she turned
off.
" excuse me, I'm gonna use the restroom"
"okay" I replied in confusion.



10 minutes later




She was gone for a while.
Her whimpers went silent.
Her silent screams became actually silent
I no longer heard her slid down the wall and hold herself in sadness.
It was actually...
silent
I slid open the door to check to see if she was ready to be alright
She just laid there......
Lifeless and peaceful.
I rushed to her assistance.
Let me help you...
Let me.. Please respond!
Let me leave instead of you!
Let me meet you at the heaven gates as well.
Let me hold you.....
I held her and sung her a song for the robins.
But as I looked into the mirror with tears running down my face.
I was only holding myself..
But no one ever knew of my depression.
They didn't want to see it.
But I had to.