Memoir

      I opened the door. The cold air struck me- I could feel it passing through me in the strangest way. The dark, cold sound of nighttime, the quiet drone of city lights and slowly passing cars were suddenly all around me. I could smell the rain, the streetlight flooded sidewalks, daunting and unfamiliar. Ana stepped into the doorway, tears streaming and mascara running down her face. "Hi," I said, and brought her inside.

      My house was quickly comforting again, the late night discussion of politics from my dad, the soft spices and hot soup boiling on the stove. We stepped down the hall and into my room. I could feel myself shaking uncontrollably, and I tried to stabilize myself. We sat down on my sister's bed like we had so many other times. But this time was different. My mind was racing like a flip book, with all the possibilities to why she had come over flashing by. I couldn't help but imagine the worst, and I knew I needed to help her but had no idea how to. That was probably the worst part. She smelled like strong perfume. It felt stupid, but I asked her what was wrong.

       Ana never makes any sense. Literally. It's like all the words are mixed up in her head like a kindergarten scribble and she can never say what she really wants to. She's an impulse person, always going with her gut feeling. Ana's unique in that way; since she never over thinks anything, she's the realest person I know. 

      She exploded with everything at once. Her depression. Her problems at school. Everything was happening so fast, and I had no control. She looked guilty for coming over so late with little notice, but I felt bad for worrying about my own dumb little problems. Ana had contemplating suicide. How did this happen? She wasn't one of those attention seekers either. Her life was far from perfect, and it terrified me. I thought stuff like this happened in books, or at least to people older. I kept thinking about what could've happened to her, what still could, because her life was escalating so quickly. But I had no idea. All I could do was sit there and listen. And for then, that was what she needed.

      She cried and told me how happy she was when I said she didn't have to go home, that she could stay at my house. I should be there for her more often, I realized. Maybe my friends needed me. Not just Ana.  Everyone else. Why had I been sitting back and waiting for something bad to happen? So I started paying more attention to how my friends were acting. Because everyone needs help. I just hadn't seen it yet.