I tell myself, I'm okay. When in reality I'm a scared little ******* the inside. They tell me I'm strong and I'm the strongest they've ever seen. But I'm this weak, terrified person fighting a constant battle with myself. I'm lost in an ocean of people trying to find the once happy, carefree girl that everyone loved. She's trapped in a padlocked box struggling to find her way out of the blackness. A lonely, melancholy cloud of darkness that has consumed and suffocated me; with anger, sadness, and hatefulness. Depression is a lonely figure of the night seeking out his prey; mindlessly waiting for that innocent person to **** their brains with thoughts of confusion for being told that, "It'll be over soon" and "what you're feeling is normal." Until you feel so insane that the doctor's stuff you're mouth with more pills. Feeling more like a ******, you soon start getting the cravings for that sharp, thick, cold metal. Wanting to feel the blade on your skin. You soon see the red crimson liquid leaving and slowly fall out of your body. You feel relief as the blade moves so effortlessly on your already damaged skin. But you stop, and those thoughts come back. So take more pills, then it becomes an endless cycle that won't end. People try asking if you're doing okay, you just nod, as you fake a smile and say "I'm fine." But you know you're not. They know so they stop asking because they know that you're just going to say the same thing. So you stop talking to them because you don't want them to see you weak for a second. Feeling as if your soul left your body, you take a seat on the floor of your shower. Letting the water make you cold. You let blade run over the skin and you watch the crimson liquid go down the drain.  This is goodbye, but God has other plans. As you are brought to life in front of him, he speaks the truth to you. "My child I know you're weak, I was once as well, but you can't let that stop you. People can't live without trees, fish need water to breath; so the world will be nothing with you. Be the best you, you can be." You feel cold as lay lifeless on the ground. Thinking that this is the end forever, you wake in the cold room and that's all dressed in white. You look up to the sad, worried faces that you thought never truly cared; are with you until the end and were there from the beginning. This new feeling is starting to take over your mind; as you're the one pushing Depression up against the wall at gunpoint. Just waiting for him to make a move; so you can pull that trigger. Trying so desperately to inch his way back into your mind, you scream and yell as you're going through this struggling battle you finally take that shot. You can breathe again.