Land of the Free, Home of the Grave
Land of the Free, Home of the Grave stories
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It was the Fourth of July, but there were other things on my mind than revering the inception of America. I slowly sipped from a can of Coke, wishing it was beer; I was too young to indulge in the tempting bottles.
By TeamShadowWind https://www.reddit.com/r/...

Land of the Free, Home of the Grave

by TeamShadowWind

It was the Fourth of July, but there were other things on my mind than revering the inception of America.

I slowly sipped from a can of Coke, wishing it was beer; I was too young to indulge in the tempting bottles.

I sat, sipping, and watched as my siblings and friends of family had an enjoyable time. I longed to be with them, to laugh, to have no cares.

Instead, I was confiding in a friend via text about how my low mood was ruining things. In between replies, I watched the others trying their luck at the various games set up.

My emotional state was like the wavering tides, and a high tide of depression overtook me, forcing me to sit.

My inner demon- the one constantly pressing for me to cut my lifespan short- chimed, "Silly you! You don't deserve to have fun.

" My younger sister walked up to me with plastic rings in hand, inquiring if I wanted to play. The demon repeated herself, and I gloomily declined.

After a meager dinner(the demon told me I was going to get fat), I slowly sipped from a second can, observing the other children from in the shade.

My eyes were on a girl my age in particular, and I wondered what they could've been talking about; they were out of hearing range.

The demon, insistent I don't enjoy the patriotic holiday, reminded me that I didn't deserve nice things, and, therefore didn't deserve to know.

When the sun sank below the horizon, the demon reminded me that I didn't deserve to behold such beautiful things, so I averted my eyes when the fireworks lit up the inky sky.

When the others were called inside, I remained in the seat I'd retreated to; the one far from the others, in the house's monolithic shadow.

I had to laugh at the irony.

Before me lay a physical representation of depression: the others, children and adults alike, were crowded inside the gorgeously decorated house, smiling and enjoying themselves.

The wide windows allowed me to see all of this. I sat, miserable that the demon had tainted one of the few occasions where I'd left my house.

I sat, woeful at the fact that they enjoyed themselves inside, in the light, while I myself sat withdrawn, alone, in the dark.

Then the demon reminded me of the one thing I did deserve, and I thought back to my failed attempt three days prior.

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