Helping the Helpless
I laid on the floor unmoving. My life was ending all around me and I was absolutly powerless to stop it. Of course, it was my fault I was in this mess to begin with. I couldn’t change anything, because I was the one who had destroyed everything.
I stared up at the ceiling. There were lines and cracks all over it. I tried counting them, trying to keep my mind off the mess surrounding me. I kept falling back into a rut of dark, despairing thoughts. I bite my lip, scared I would slip back into a depression like I had a few years back.
The tears didn’t come, they never did. I subconciously touched my left shoulder, where there were the faint white lines of past horrors. I drew my hand away and clenched it into a fist at my side, angry for letting myself go back to that time and place.
A exasperated scream escaped my lips and I closed my eyes in frustration.
“Need help?” A voice said. I open my eyes, my cheecks flaming red in emarassment and see a guy extending a hand to me with a friendly smile on his face.