Hey guys, first thing first, warning for brief description of depression ( actually it depends on how you dechiper it) and self-blame. I have never posted something like this before and im only writing this based on personal view and experience so pls any feedback is valued, any at all!
Aaron honestly had nothing to mope about.
He had just returned from a nice outing with his best friends- who were both amazing people and Aaron loved them dearly (goodness, he really did)-, he was going to graduate from his final year at Magisterium which would earn him a complete gold cuff and he had even nailed a secure spot in Collegian by his second semester.
So why? Why was he laying on the edge of his bed, unmoving, legs dangling off the mattress awkwardly, fully dressed in the clothes he had worn out? He didn’t exactly want to sleep in dirty clothes from a rather eventful picnic but he didn’t exactly want to get up and change either (he really should). He knew staying like this would end in a massive back pain but he didn’t feel the urge to shuffle to a comfortable position (he knew he really should).
He just laid there; bothered and aware by the fact that -eventually- he had moved but took no action about it. He had his homework on his mind too (god, he really, really should). He knew where it was -on his desk untouched since Friday night- and he definitely knew how much that essay would account for in his final theory exam. He, like every other Gold Year mage, felt the heavy pressure of graduation heavy on his chest.
Now if he was really so worried about finishing it, he could simply get up and well- finish it.
Why let the stress loom over him at the thought of such a doable task? He could just do it.
He had forgotten to turn off the air-conditioning in his dorm before he left so he was greeted with humid, cool breeze at the front door. He should had grabbed the remote control before he plopped onto his bed because suddenly the idea of reaching over to his nightstand was too vigorous (it’s just too much work).
So many things he had to do, so many of them he would do, and even more of them he could do.
He just didn’t want to do them…? No, that didn’t seem right.
It wasn’t fair to say that he couldn’t do them either because really, he knew that he could (if he just got up and just did it for god’s sake).
Above all, lord knows he should do them, these things would greatly benefit him and more importantly, he needed to do it. It was how life worked; you give effort and you get results (though the results and efforts weren’t also equivalent).
Instead, there he was moping.
Was it moping? He genuinely didn’t think he was sad or anything but he wouldn’t call himself happy? and besides, nothing had happened that had hurt his mood or anything.
So, if Aaron Stewart had to give his current feeling a name, he’d call it grey.
Grey like when a new graphic is loading, it’s just blank for a moment. Neither fully something nor absolutely nothing. Like he was caught in the middle of every emotion he has ever felt in life and just stuck there, unable to actually feel any of those emotions. No, not numb. He felt.
But he didn’t know what he felt.
Unmotivated? Possibly. Tired? Well… Upset? He hoped not. Frustrated? At what?
Aaron remained still on his bed. (Maybe hours have passed? How much time had he wasted? God, he truly was pointless.)
Suddenly, there was an overwhelming wave of shame raining on the boy, making him feel like he was drowning in it (stupid, stupid, stupid). It rushed up his throat and flushed his cheeks. It was almost painful to feel so strongly after having adjusted to the grey. It was guilt.
(stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…)
He was ungrateful, he knew it. He had countless blessings in his life. Countless. Life was good. He had a family, friends, education, food, warmth, health- heck, magic. Aaron was so angry at himself. He was so selfish. So spoiled. He had everything he needed. Yet, there he laid, moping.
(selfish, selfish, selfish, selfish, selfish, SELFISH)
He had no right to be upset, compared to Call who couldn’t remember what it was like to have wind whip past your face when you run fast enough, who couldn’t whish up a little magic without the constant fear breathing down his neck that he’ll get caught (who would ever stop fearing the Enemy of Death), or compared to Tamara who had to stand tall with the weight of her sisters’ accomplishment bearing on her own shoulders and scavenge her way to outdo every single medal they received, who couldn’t let anything, anything hurt her image so she wouldn’t have to avert her eyes from her parents’ steel gaze whenever they met.
God, he was awful. Pitying his own situation when there was so much more hurt around him. He had no right to feel whatever it was he felt.
Aaron honestly had nothing to mope about.
Please do share your opinions! Sorry it was a filler with literally no plot, i think ive lost my writing abilities after the hiatus so pls be patient with me as i figure how doing all this works again :)
