Marathon

Running a mile with a broken leg hurts. It feels like I’ve been running a marathon on my broken leg. It all started in June, two days after school got out, it was the day I had unconsciously chosen to run this marathon.

Pulling myself out of bed, I throw on some shorts and a tank top. Put a little mascara on my eyes and grabbed my backpack. I go to what I call my brunch, mostly because it’s around 11 am. I got my usual salad and soup. Then I got bubble tea to bring to Brooke, a friend who is moving. Today is the last day I see her for a long time. I struggle up the hill and with every step I take another tear falls. I give her a hug, squeeze her tight and walk away.

I didn’t think leaving her would have been that hard. She was only my friend for 5 months but it’s like with each day we exponentially grew closer. Now I wish that was what got me into running marathons on broken limbs but, the day kept going.

Went I get home I decide to start drinking. It was early, the clock had barely ticked past noon. And before I knew it was buzzed at 2pm on a Friday. I have a goodbye party at 7pm so I text a friend, Eric, and ask when he would like to meet up to head over. We got ready by 6 and leave for the MRT. When we got there we were all heading out to a remote street by the house the party was at.

Before everything got started I remember giving a toast about goodbyes. Something about how these 6 people who were moving had made me want to get up every morning for the past two years. How these 6 people who were moving had made me laugh and smile when I had three tests and a performance. How these 6 people made me want to live carefree. And then, I got wasted. I don’t remember much. Expect for at midnight, Eric put me in a cab and walked me to my room. I remember crying the whole way, something about how without these 6 people my life would have fallen apart.

Now a days, I struggle to get out of bed. Now I struggle to laugh and smile. Now I have panic attacks in the back of the classroom. But I don’t drink. Haven’t had a sip since that day. They will tell you that alcohol takes the edge off. They lie. All it does, is give you anxiety and depression and real issues that you can’t solve without a lot of effort. All it does is give you a lot of pain. All it does is make you run a marathon on a broken leg

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