I was in pitch black, nothing surrounding me to tell me where I was. But my feet seemed to know where they were going. I let them lead. I glanced around, trying to decide if this was a dream or not. Before I could, I saw where my feet were taking me. There was a young girl, 10 years old, nose in a book and golden-blonde hair falling in her face, bangs hanging just above her golden eyes, which were flicking across the pages-without her reading glasses that she had probably outgrown by now, I noted-who was sitting curled in a ball on the ground. It was me. My pace slowed, looking at the face of my innocence, which was still not so innocent, pausing at the end of a chapter and looking up to see me. She smiled, and looked off to the side of my face. I never could bear looking people in the eye, still don't. "Hi," I said. "Is it okay if I sit here?"309Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7MLHIlzEvZ
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She nodded, but still said nothing. Shy around someone she didn't know. She'd speak if she was comfortable, I knew, trying to earn a little praise every now and then for what she loved, what she did, what she enjoyed. "Watcha readin'?" I asked.copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0HvzmFujtn
"The Mysterious Benedict Society," she responded, that higher soprano voice not trained enough to be used as a Soprano 1 yet instead of a mezzo-soprano.copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡt7xm9e9VBs
I smiled at her, remembering the book vividly. I'll still read it. "That's a good one, isn't it?"copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡBXB8ae1V23
She lit up and nodded. "Ms. McMunn, my reading teacher, recommended it, and my dad got it for me a little while before, so I figured I'd try it. It's really good!"copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡAyJDsoLzYu
"Well, don't let me stop you, you can keep reading," I encouraged.copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡjvPQtcDqx2
She shook her head. "That's okay, I'd like to talk with you."copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡfJt7GYHJ7E
I was shocked. That was something I don't remember happening, except maybe with my closest friends. "What would you like to talk about?"copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡrKmm6T9H0W
"My future," the girl said brightly. "I want to know what it's like. I want to know about middle school, and high school, and whether I find someone I really, really like, and who my friends are. I want to know if I ever write a full book, and how Mom and Dad are, and--"copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡxv24aX4Ty8
"Slow down!" I interrupt, my heart sinking. This girl, this sweet, little girl, wanted to know what it would be like when she grew up. What should I tell her? Surely I can't tell her how quickly her innocence will leave, and how she'll stop taking those awful antidepressants only to continue taking them after 2 years of surviving. Still, she looked at me eagerly, hoping for an answer. I'm so inquisitive. "I'm not sure you want to know," I say.copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡrleJLDjd2V
She looked crestfallen. That told her all she needed to know to stoke her fears. I wrapped her in a hug. "I'm not gonna lie, kid, it's gonna be bad. But I'm so proud of you. You beat the anorexia, and the depression that comes with it. There are people who will jump on you for no good reason, you'll get injured, and claustrophobic, and feel like you're being strangled...and that's just 6th grade!" I choked a laugh. "But you get through it. And you get away. You go to a high school where kids understand, and if they don't understand they at least accept." I'm crying, now, not trying to hold it back. She's surprised. "You learn to cry, Emily," I say to her. "You learn to cry a lot, not just when you're alone, but in front of people, too. It's nothing to be self-conscious about. It happens, when you have too much. It's your mental red light. It gets out of control a bit, you hate crowds for quite a while and you're not sure why, but it's because you're just overwhelmed. There's so much information, and you try to get it all in your head, and you shut down. And sometimes you do that for no reason, but you have medicine that will help you, though it'll take a while."copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡYIFM1adeBN
She looked worried. "It's...it's not more right?"copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡtbcOKgNgDM
"It's not Zoloft, sweetheart. It doesn't shut you off, it turns you up. It lets you be yourself, it lets you not be afraid.copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡi6Qs3XaWB8
"You write that book. And your friends, your family, even your teachers wind up reading it, and love it.copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡygwu9XA6WM
"You learn that while some people want things...that I probably shouldn't explain to you, you don't want them, and that's okay. You still love, both friends and family, and more. You have a boyfriend, it doesn't work out in the end, but when you're with him you feel happy. You make friends, more friends than you've had in a while, and even though you...I still deal with depression and anxiety...we turn out all right, maybe better because of it."copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6SdeZ3NXt5
She smiles. Not shy, or nervous, but the sort of smile I've learned to display when I'm happy, no inhibitions, just a pure sort of happy. "I'm glad," she says. "I don't feel this glad much."copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡYuhlCvAFpZ
I smile sadly. "I know. But you will."copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡIeayDUnIY7
She squeezes me tight. "Thank you for not giving up," she whispers. "It sounds like our future is great."copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡwK1COi3ER0
Great. I think. I haven't used that word to describe it, but I suppose it is. "It is great," I say, "Bumpy, but great. Coal needs pressure to become a diamond."309Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyI9wbaXrEw
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She pulls back and away. "Thanks for talking with me!" she says. "I'm really proud of who I become, now!"copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡUH6Q0nDecF
My heart warms. Maybe, just maybe, I can love myself like that one day, too. "I love you too."copyright protection305ＰＥＮＡＮＡNgXKGedTPN
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