I’m Looking Through You.

“Fuck.”

It was the only word she knew to express how she was feeling. Sure she could have tried something more subtle, but it wouldn’t have had the same effect. Fuck was such a marvelous word, it could describe almost anything.

“Life is short, there’s no time for this. So why bother?” Her question rang in her ears as she spoke these seemingly harmless words.

Earlier that evening she had been a little depressed, perhaps it was the damp early spring weather, or maybe it was the utter feeling of self loathing. She didn’t know why she felt like this. She just knew that something wasn’t right. She had been alone and she had tried to figure out why she always came back to the same conclusion. There was no happiness left in the world today. She decided to shake it off and try to enjoy her evening.

That is until she got home, where everything went to hell.

She immediately got on the computer to do her homework, and noticed her friend who had seemed so optimistic earlier that day was more depressed than ever. She tried to make him feel better, by just talking it out. To put it bluntly, she was told to fuck off.

She did not let this little passing get in her way of accomplishing something. She did almost all her homework, and then her friend started talking to her again. He explained why he was so despondent earlier and it turned out that he had some problems of his own, go figure. She decided not to tell him about hers for it would just upset him even more.

Then it happened. Her best friend struck up a conversation.

It was going rather well, until her best friend stopped talking. When she asked what was wrong, her friend innocently replied, “Oh it’s nothing, never mind.”

Her intuition kicked in, something was wrong, and when asked to elaborate she was handed this as a response.

“I don’t know, its better not. Well I’m complaining about you, but I can sort it out on my own.”

This intrigued her. Why would her best friend be bitching about her? Was it something she did? She drew a blank. So she asked, and was told.

“It’s nothing you did. It’s just… Ah never mind.”

The conversation after that was best left not repeated. Her friend always felt second to her, which was sad, because she always felt like shit. She couldn’t imagine what her friend must feel like. She argued her point but it was to no avail, this just infuriated her friend to the point where she logged off without warning.

Now she was in a state which goes beyond all moral depression, this was manic. She sat there for what seemed like a long time, staring blankly at the wall. Her friend felt like shit while she was alive, her fucking parents were pathetic and on top of all that she had grown to hate herself. There was nothing left to live for.

She glanced at the clock on the screen which read 11:22 pm. Perfect. Just before midnight.

She slid out of her chair and walked to the door, turned the handle and stared off into the night. It was sleeting, rain and snowflakes splattering against the hard concrete. Her situation reminded her of a song by the Beatles called, I’m Looking through You. She loved that song. And somehow it reached out to her, she didn’t even notice slipping into her coat and sneaking out the front door.

The night air was crisp. The sky continued to release it’s torrent of confusion towards the earth. She noticed none of this, as tears blurred her eyes and she stumbled onwards.

She stood looking over the highway, feeling the cruel wind upon her face and listening to the traffic below, and she thought back to the song.

“I’m looking through you, where did you go. I though I knew you, what did I know. You don’t look different but you have changed. I’m looking through you, you’re not the same.”

Life is short, there’s no time for this. So why bother?! She silently screamed, as she flung herself into the on coming traffic.

The last thing she heard were strains of dreamy music consuming her like a psychotropic drug.

“The only difference is you’re down there. I’m looking through you, and you’re nowhere.”

Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed it’s mournful tune.