This is a creative post.
Content warning for depression and anxiety.
The clock ticked away on the wall. Tick, tock, tick, tock, a melody of times never ending march forward. A sound that was somehow both loud and quiet, both soothing and annoying.
Sylvester didn’t know if he should be upset that he couldn’t stop listening.
There were so many things he needed to do. There were of course his homework, that consisted of piles and piles of writing and reading. There were his finances, his social life and his extra-curricular activities.
But above all else, and the thing he wished to avoid thinking about the most, there was himself.
To try and solve the problems of his social life felt like trying to solve an equation that was as meaningless as it was hopeless to work through. Every time he felt he was making progress more and more criticisms fluttered his way.
He felt like he walked around with eyes that were too wild and scared for people to care for.
But how to solve this? It would take years. Years that Sylvester felt he didn’t have. Everything felt urgent and loud to him. Every day was a whirlwind of exhausting activity that presented him with new walls and challenges.
What happens if he no longer had the strength to crawl his way through?
No, it was far easier for now to sit and listen to the clocks ticking. At least, for the time being, it was something he did not have to worry about.