Fall
I hate inside jokes. I hate it when my paarents tell everybody about every aspect of my life. I hate it when my friends all get together, but never seem to remember that I am a part of the group. I hate it when people look at me weird because I decided to isplate myself from everybody the day you left. I t was normal a good day in my eyes. For once my secrets remained secrets. My folks didn’t ask me a hundred and one questions. I didn’t fail me math test and I managed to not get yelled at by the groups leader. I wish everyday could be like that. When I got home I lost you. I cried. You didn’t come back you were missing. I wish I could put fliiers on trees as if you were a lost puppy, but I cant. I lost intrest in everything. I always want to sleep.
Winter

I feel worse blackness is all I see. My windows aare covered in blankets to keep the light out. My mom brings me a gift everday in effort to make me si=mile. Today she brought me a new book a sequal to The House of Night novels that I used to enjoy reading. It doesn’t intres me. It goes into the prada bag I got last week. I stare at the tv that isnt turned on. Whats wrong with me? I want you to come back. I still havent found you. When will you give me a clue to where you’ve hidden yourself?
Spring

You still havent returned. Not completely, but I’m better. I’ve managed to pry myself from the bed long enough to go to school. I am going to be held back. I have missed too much school the entire first semester of the new year. I guess that’s what happens when you lose yourself. I havent beaten you yet, but I will. Just wait. I still cant bring myself to look at the gifts that remind me of the darker times. Maybe I am getting closer to you.


Summer
I am almost there. I am the blosom of a flower. Y scars have faded and with the new year maybe I will have new reasons to love. You have given me a clue to where you are. You are in the people who surround me. Better people makes me a better person. I finally get it.
Fall

I am healed. I am no longer a blossom, but a full grown flower. I made new friends this year. I finally beat you. I have finally found you. They aske me what happened last year and I tell them who stole me. Depression. I say. And the weird looks fade. I am not forgotten anymore. However, my parents need to learn to keep their mouthes closed. And I need to learn to not keep my secerets a secret.