Status: updating as i write and edit. please point out any grammar/spelling mistakes :)
Cool for the Summer
‘I can’t look after her.’ I heard my older brother complain. ‘I’m going on fucking tour!’
‘Alexander William Gaskarth, you will take your sister with you. I don’t care what you say.’
‘Mo-‘
‘No! You’re taking her, and that’s final.’
My name is Isabella. Isabella Aurora Gaskarth. I have caramel coloured hair and soft Italian skin. I have almond shaped eyes framed by my incredibly blunt bangs and messy waves down to my chin for a haircut. I’d like to think that my life was pretty great until I hit about 15. But when I hit 15, I started seeing a guy, Henry, 6 years older than me. He broke up with me 2 years later so he could find someone his own age, and that’s when things went downhill.
Pre-Henry, I’d been on the track for med school. I was going to be a neurosurgeon. I had the whole thing laid out – my plans for Harvard, my relationship, my family all planned out. Meeting Henry had changed that. He messed it all up. But he had been my best friend, and when you lose your best friend, you lose yourself.
I’d tried killing myself a few days ago. Not out of sadness, not out of anger, not even because of Henry. I was just… Exhausted. I didn’t want to do anything anymore.
It sounds brief. It is brief, but that’s not important. What is important, is that my older brother, Alex, is being forced to take me on tour with him.
a/n - due to my own experiences with depression, this story will not have full focus on depressive episodes. apologies
‘Alexander William Gaskarth, you will take your sister with you. I don’t care what you say.’
‘Mo-‘
‘No! You’re taking her, and that’s final.’
My name is Isabella. Isabella Aurora Gaskarth. I have caramel coloured hair and soft Italian skin. I have almond shaped eyes framed by my incredibly blunt bangs and messy waves down to my chin for a haircut. I’d like to think that my life was pretty great until I hit about 15. But when I hit 15, I started seeing a guy, Henry, 6 years older than me. He broke up with me 2 years later so he could find someone his own age, and that’s when things went downhill.
Pre-Henry, I’d been on the track for med school. I was going to be a neurosurgeon. I had the whole thing laid out – my plans for Harvard, my relationship, my family all planned out. Meeting Henry had changed that. He messed it all up. But he had been my best friend, and when you lose your best friend, you lose yourself.
I’d tried killing myself a few days ago. Not out of sadness, not out of anger, not even because of Henry. I was just… Exhausted. I didn’t want to do anything anymore.
It sounds brief. It is brief, but that’s not important. What is important, is that my older brother, Alex, is being forced to take me on tour with him.
a/n - due to my own experiences with depression, this story will not have full focus on depressive episodes. apologies