Built A World of Magic

"Tell me what a day in the life of Lexi Warren is like?"

"Here I am again- In the same situation I find myself in much too often. The sad music echoing off my speakers in the background, the cigarette ashes falling on my keys like snow, a cold beer in one hand, and a mind full of doubt in the other. You see, it's not enough for me these days to just write out my problems, then let the key-board do the thinking for me. Nothing seems to be enough for me anymore. In reality things aren't even so bad that I should put myself in this state of mind. Problem is- I only seem to have one state of mind these days. I can't even enjoy the happy moments like a normal human being. It's always there, in the back of my mind, that screaming voice telling me that it's all going to fail. Maybe I shouldn't be so doubtful, nor so dreadful, but those are the only two feelings I've got left to believe in. They've all let me down, every-single-one of them. All the people that were supposed to be my rock, my soul, my reason to believe and smile. Surely it's not all their faults; sometimes I can see that they really do try. But in the end all the results come back the same. 'Round and 'round in circles we go- This cycle will never end."

"... Do you ever think that maybe sometimes the problem is YOU?"

"Of course I think that. What person with at least ten percent of their sanity in tact doesn't sit around and wonder about themselves on occasion?"

"... Is it possible that maybe these feelings you have, they're all just part of being your age? Being a teenager isn't easy, and it says here that you were dioagnosed with depression when you were.. fourteen?"

"Being a teenager comes with a gaurentee of depression, doesn't it, doc? I mean, we're born, and we grow up with idea of what parents are like. Be them terrible or wonderful, and then when we get old enough to really understand what was on display for us, we realize it was all just bullshit. Parents, friends, relationships- It's all just bullshit."

"All I'm getting from you is nega-"
"Naturally I'm going to be negative, doc. Were you doing nearly half the shit I'm doing when you were my age? And you know what the worst part is- I'm still waiting on someone to come rescue me. I mean, I've built this magical world in my head that I know in reality doesn't exist. Not in the slightest, but we all need a little hope."

"Yes, but Lexi-"
"Oh, would you look at that? The hour is over. Guess we'll have to pick this up next week. Later, doc."

The whole damn building is painted a lively shade of blue. It's said to make the place seem less depressing, it's said to bring the place alive and wash out all the sadness. But it doesn't. Truth is, it just pisses everyone off even more. It wasn't my choice to come here; I'd give the world to be anywhere else. I was forced in here by the jury of my closest friends. They told me I was changing, they told me I was angry, they told me everything they didn't think I could see for myself. I don't see the big deal, though. We all have our problems, we all have our faults. I just lost all the good stuff on the way up.

He's waiting for me outside. I once believed him to be the "man of my dreams," but the farther we get into this relationship of ours, the more I realize he doesn't even cut it close. And it's not like I'm looking for perfection in him, I know that God is the only form of perfection in this world, but I'm not even seeing hope in his eyes. He's like my rock; and I've yet to master how to skip stones.

I'm almost there now, thank God. I'm almost out of this horrible building. I'm almost past all those tears falling from the eyes of strangers, I'm almost past all the judging therapist, I'm almost past all the angry faces. Three more steps, and I'll make it out into the icey streets.

"Alexander, wait!"

Damnit. One step away. Call me sick, but I just can't help to watch the screaming fits in this place. If they're all as screwed up as they say, and if I'm being forced to come here, I should at least enjoy the show. Turning my head slowly, I caught a quick glimpse of his face before he turned back on his heels. He had a pretty face, and pretty hair. I do like pretty hair. The lady, though, she was wearing normal therapist clothes. Bright colors, high heels, and glasses. Why do they all have glasses?

"We haven't finished your session! You're almost finished with therapy, Alex, you're having a break-through!"

"A break-through?" The boy snapped back. "Is that a better way of saying break-down?"

"No, Alexander, no. If you will please just come back into my office and talk about what you're feeling! You're causing a scene, Alex!"

I almost felt bad for the woman. She looked so desperate to pull him back into that room and set him on the right path. But he, just like the rest of us, didn't want it. He was just the only one with enough balls to admit it.

"Causing a scene? Do you want a scene, woman?" He finally pulled his eyes away from her. He faced the large crowd hanging around the waiting room- Some clearly patients, some waiting for the patients. His arms flew into the air, it was then that I realized just how tall he was. With a pained smile on his face, and a bleak laugh, the words left his lips. "Therapy- You can choke on your misery!"

My first thought should have been something a little deeper, maybe with a more sympathy, but all I could think was... Nicely worded. The lady, his therapist, dropped her paper with a huff. He took a step forward, and I realized he was about to storm out of the building. I didn't want to steal his moment, but I didn't want to turn into a doormat, either. As quickly as I could, I took that last step out of the building, almost instantly wishing I hadn't left. The cold Baltimore streets slapped me in the face like a fly-swatter. With a gush of wind, I inhaled the brisk sensation, but two moments later the air was knocked out of my lungs.

"Oh fuck!" His voice came high and shrill. Almost in a panic, I'd say. "Are you okay?"

The cold concrete seemed to hit my back like shattered ice. I could tell already that my right arm was bleeding just below my elbow, and my head was throbbing so hard I thought the noise was going to make my head explode. As those last three words escaped his lips, I had every intention of saying 'no,' but when I opened my eyes to see a small stream of sunlight whisking around his figure, I was determined to say yes.

"Here, let me help you up," he said with a sad voice. His hands instantly went for my arms, where he just so happened to lace his fingertips around my blood. When I winced, he pulled his hand back as a natraul reaction. I watched his eyes grow wide as he looked at his finger tips. "Oh, shit. You're bleeding!"

"I would have just accepted an apology," I said, in the most soothing voice I could gather. I used my cold hands to prop myself up. Thankfully, the boy was kind enough to pull me up the rest of the way.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm so sorry. Are you sure you're okay? I was just so pissed that I didn't even see you there."

"I never said I was okay," I gave a light laugh. "It's fine, though. I saw what happened in there, maybe I should ask if you're okay."

"You saw that? Damn," he ran a finger through his blonde, choppy hair. "Sorry."

"You sure do apologize a lot," I shot him a soft smile. "But that's also fine. It's like you took the words right out of my mouth. That place is terrible."

"It is," he nodded in agreement. When the moment seemed to suddenly grow awkward, he glanced around the street. "So do you need a ride home or anything? It's the least I could do.."

In that very moment, I snapped back to reality. He was suposed to be out here waiting for me. I followed the boy's actions and glanced around the street. My heart sank into my stomach when I didn't see the blue, crappy car hanging around a parking spot. It's safe to say that I was angry, maybe even livid, but I wasn't about to show a complete stranger how mad I was. I quickly wiped any trace of hurt off my face, and flashed him a toothy grin.

"I don't feel like going home yet," I admitted with a shrug. "But I could use a cup of coffee."

Returning my smile, he gave a soft nod and turned on his heel.

"Should we get you a band-aid?"

And with a whisk of the wind, I was flying back to dream-land.