The girl is ill!

The girl is mad, I say. She wallows in a depression that pulls her into a sense of slack which makes her angry at herself for being tardy to rise, being late to class. It is a vicious cycle that makes her appear ill, as she doesn't dress for appearances when she feels this way, and I am hesitant to criticize her as I don't want her to fall into the illness any deeper. I do not like to see her like this. She is slow and seems dim-witted. She doesn't respond to all inquiries made toward her, and keeps her head low. To me, she seems truly pathetic. Who could love such a sad creature?

But I have been that way in the past and can't help to acknowledge it, albeit only to myself, within my own memory. Though the girl tends to ruminate in her depression, she focuses on why she feels the way she does, and this does little good, while I tend to distract myself until I am able to realize I don't have it all that bad.

I tried to comfort and sympathize with her, but I felt pushed away by the demon lurking in her skull. It is distressing, and although I made her laugh for a moment, it did little for her, and just made me irritated. But as we were in class, I did little that might upset my strong, healthy reputation. Though, if we were alone, there wouldn't be much else I could do. I wanted to get away from her. She went home early and got away from everyone.

Once class was over, I spoke with the few of our friends and they asked me, "What have you done to the poor girl?" While I was bothered by this, I didn't react and told the truth, "I don't know, what did YOU do to her?" She complained and cried about her wet sneakers, as she didn't have time to find her boots in the morning, as she was rushed. Poor thing. First-world problem. That's not the core of the issue. That is petty. That doesn't drive people into the upset she is facing.

Only time will tell.