I was just another teenager

I was just another teenager, when I got engulfed in depression.

The holiday season should be cosy and sweet and full of beautiful sparkling lights, but on a random day in December my life changed.

I got up and went to school. The school was a real sanctuary for me. I spent my youth reading old books and smoking lots of cigarettes. For the first time I was surrounded by bookish people and I absolutely loved it.

It was the middle of finals and like the little worker bee I was, I had just gotten an A a couple of days before.

A peculiar thing happened. I opened my little folder full of knowledge and started reading… I should say I tried to. The words couldn’t get into my head. I looked at the letters and I realised, perhaps for the first time, that they were just signs, drawings really. I couldn’t make out what they meant. I concentrated, I tried sensing it. Sometimes a word came to mind, but I just couldn’t put it together.

It didn’t seem scary, I was however weirded out by the experience. I didn’t tell anyone until the day after, where I had to leave the exam because I couldn’t read the questions