Blog #9 - Goodbye

Dorothy was now 18, and with a new age came a new darkness. It differed from the other types of darkness she had experienced, from moving away from her home and all her friends in New York, to the abuse she experienced with her dad, to her addiction, she was in no way unfamiliar with gloomy times.

It seemed that recently each day became a harder battle. Dorothy would wake up with a pounding headache or an upset stomach, neither seeming to have a specific cause. They wouldn’t go away until about lunch time, causing her to either miss her classes at the beginning of the day, or be in so much pain that she couldn’t pay attention to anything her teachers were saying.

As the days went on like this, it began to affect her mood as well. She no longer cared for her camera, barely even touched it. It sat in the corner of her room, collecting dust, just like her thoughts. Her mind would go blank a lot of the time, and the only thing that could be shown for her existence half the time was the indentation that her body made in her bed and the dirt that was accumulating on her sneakers from walking to school.

This darkness felt like it was present in her life, but also in the lives of the people around her. She noticed the sorrow on the faces of the people who passed her in street, her neighbors in the Foxberry, and in her mother. It was a new type of sadness, one that had no rhyme or reason. It was becoming too much for Dorothy to handle.

After a month since her birthday and a month of not touching her extremely expensive camera, she decided to sell it.

“Mom, I’m selling my camera and using the money to go somewhere.”

“O-o-okay.”

She knew her mom wouldn’t think anything of it.

And with that, Dorothy sold her DSLR, packed a bag, and took a train that would go as far away from this town and the Foxberry as possible.