FebulousFebruary 2025: Lost and Found

Trigger warning: thoughts of suicide/self harm.

As tears fall down her cheeks like hot tar and the pain of her insides turn to knots, she longs to be swallowed up by her mattress, to stop existing. Her body feels heavy, bones made of lead. 

“Why won’t it stop?” she asks herself, “I just want it to stop”. She knows how, but last time it didn’t work. Last time she was found, blood soaked, drifting in and out of consciousness. This time it will have to be more definitive. No room for error. 

The thoughts consume her as she lays looking at the ceiling. Her tears fill her eyes and she feels like she’s drowning. A weight on her chest, paralysed by the fear of her own thoughts. She thought she was better, she thought this wouldn’t happen again.

Telling mum and dad she’s a lesbian was probably not a great idea whilst stuck in lockdown with them. Nowhere to go, stuck in a cage, a captive audience for the abuse hurled at her from those who once gave her so much love. 

It will make her plans even more difficult but fortunately, they’re both still leaving the house for work. Fortunately, she is left alone for a few, miserable hours. A tiny reprieve in this new world. A world of hate, confusion and homophobia. “Not our daughter” they say “how could you do this to us?”.

Complete silence. Alone with her own mind. Something she never thought she would or could appreciate. She absolutely hated being alone and despised her own company. But now in lockdown, it’s different, it is heavenly. 

As her thoughts turn ever darker, in desperation she turns to the trusty search engine that knows all. “There has to be something that will really work…”. She picks up her phone and a message pings through. It’s from Her:

“Hey you, just checking in. Hope you’re ok. Miss you. Xx“

Two kisses, she’s never sent two kisses before. She feels her face flush and her cheeks turn from pallid to peach.

Before lockdown they saw each other every day, she made her realise her true self. She rolls her eyes at how much of a cliché she has become, but she likes it. They text back and forth all day, with every message she feels her body lighten and her sadness begins to melt away like the last remnants of snow outside. 

That night they fall asleep texting, when she wakes she actually feels rested and her first thought isn’t how badly she longs to stop living, instead she feels a determination to start. She scrolls through the news, the PM finally announces “Lockdown is over and you can go about your lives as normal.”

An unfamiliar feeling rushes over her body. Is this what happiness feels like? She thinks to herself and she excitedly checks her phone, alas her texts have gone unanswered. She can’t still be asleep? What did I say? Was I too honest? Her mind goes into overdrive, maybe she shouldn’t have asked her on a date once lockdown is over, she didn’t realise it would be over so soon. Self doubt and worry creep in like a rolling dark cloud on the horizon. She decides she needs snacks. Distraction is key.

Mum and dad have gone to work, she’s alone. She searches but realises there are no snacks. She hasn’t been out of the house for a few days so forces herself to get dressed for the shop. A shower is pushing it so she scrapes her hair back and throws on some joggers and an oversized jumper. Checking her phone; still nothing. 

Searching for her house keys a message finally pings through. Mum: “can you do some laundry today“…she doesn’t reply. Psyching herself up for this trip to the shop is taking all of her energy right now. Deep breath. You can do this. She turns the lock and the door cracks open, the sun makes her squint like a mole emerging through the grass. She nervously opens the door all the way and as her eyes adjust to the light she sees something in front of her. 

“Hey you” says the figure “I’ve missed you“.

Natalie Frater, Kent