The Forever of Ella and Micha

cooking over the stove as pans sizzle. Her blonde hair is in a bun and she’s wearing a pink sweatpants suit. A guy, at least ten years younger than her, is at the table reading the sports section of the newspaper and drinking juice. His brown hair is thick except for a small bald spot on the top and he has dark circles under his hazel eyes.
    “Good morning, sweetie,” Miss Scott greets me with a cheery smile. “Would you like some breakfast?”
    I glance at the stranger at the table, who makes me nervous as he evaluates me. “Umm… where is Micha and everyone else?”
    She stabs the bacon with a fork and turns it over. “They went outside. Micha’s really excited that his dad paid to get his car fixed, I think… It was really nice of him.”
    “Shit.” I don’t mean to say it aloud and Miss Scott looks at me perplexedly.
    “Are you alright?” she asks, scrapping the eggs around in the pan with a spatula.
    I snatch one of Micha’s jackets off the hanger near the back door and step outside, not answering her. There is no way in hell he could be excited about that.
    Outside, the air is below freezing and sends me into a shivering frenzy. My boots crunch against the snow as I hike to the garage where the Chevelle is parked. The once smashed in side is now as smooth as silk, repainted a smokin’ black, with a cherry red racing strip down the hood. It’s in racing condition but only because of Micha’s father.
    “Can you believe he fucking did this?” Micha’s sharp voice surprises me and I whirl around, nearly falling on my ass as my shoes slip on a patch of ice.
    Micha’s hand snaps out to catch me, but he slants sideways, losing balance. I grab the hem of his jacket and get my footing for the both of us.
    Clutching onto my shoulder with one hand, Micha grasps the beer in his hand like it’s the most important thing in the world. “My father thinks he can pay me off.”
    “What do you mean?” I ask, letting go of his arm and turning back to the car.
    He strolls around me and jumps up from the ground, knocking some icicles off the trimming of the garage roof. “He sent my mom some money after I helped him out with his little thing to fix up my car as a thank-you.”
    I’m unsure how to approach the situation. “Well, I guess it was kind of nice of him. I mean, at least he did something good.”
    His aqua eyes are as cold as the ice beneath our feet. “I’d rather him have call me, at least then he’d be acknowledging my existence. But instead he sends my mom a fucking card.” Wrestling a piece of paper out of his pocket, he throws it in my direction, but it makes it only half way between us and falls to the snow.
    I swipe it up, dust the snow off it, and open the card.
Please use this money to fix Micha’s car up like we talked about on the phone and tell him thank you for helping me. It was a very nice thing he did, and my family and I are grateful for it.
    “His family and he are grateful.” He kicks the tire with the tip of his boot and chucks the beer bottle at the wall, and it shatters all over the cement. “He’s a fucking asshole. Like I’m not his family.”
    I set the card down on the hood and open my arms to give him a hug, but he backs away. “I just need a moment, okay? Can you go inside or something?”
    He’s more wasted than I thought. Up close, the red lines in his glossy eyes are visible and his cheeks are flushed. His hair is sticking up, like he’s dragged his hands through it multiple times. There’s anger in his eyes that only an excessive amount of alcohol can bring out.
    “Okay, I’ll be inside if you need me.” I trek for the door, but pause at the steps, noticing that Ethan’s truck is gone. I turn back to Micha to ask where he went, but he’s shutting the garage door as he pulls out another beer from the pack on the shelf, locking away the world as he buries his pain in alcohol.
    I think about confronting him—about his drinking problem and pushing me away—but when I make it to the bedroom, exhaustion overtakes my body and I fall onto the mattress, wondering why I came here in the first place.

    Depression and anxiety are the devil. Anything can trigger them and flip my mood in a heartbeat. Luckily, Anna taught me to notice when I’m sinking into the hole of despair that can turn into a bottomless pit. She taught me how to realize when it’s taking over and how to fight the darkness. If I work at it, I can get ahold of the light again. But