I didn't bother asking Jaxson how he knew where Amelia lived. Mumbling about his stalker vibes, I exited the car a few houses away from the one Jaxson pointed as my destination. I didn't want to announce my arrival with bright headlights. Especially considering the late hour and darkness, and the fact that Amelia's family was likely against visitors at that time.

     I was placing immense trust, likely more than was warranted in Jaxson. Not only did I have to trust his pointed home, but I had to trust his instructions to Amelia's room. I couldn't risk being turned away at the front door. And since Amelia had stopped answering her texts, I had to go the cheesy, old-school way. If I did what I was about to do, on a window that didn't belong to Amelia, my angel guide would have to bail me out of jail.

      Carefully following previously listed instructions, I found a two-panel slider window, lit with dull yellow lighting. I hoped that meant she was awake. Looking up at the second story window, I hesitated only a few seconds before launching a pinecone. I barely hit my target, brushing the outer edge. Huffing at my lacking skills, I took a second pinecone and threw it with all my power. The tick as it collided with glass wasn't nearly as loud as I wanted. Still, I hoped it was enough to catch her attention. I released some of the cord twirled around my wrist with the intention of the unicorn being the first thing she saw.

      Seconds passed with no fruit to my labor. Just as I lost hope and began reaching for another pinecone Amelia appeared in the window. Cardigan wrapped around her shoulders; confusion knit her eyebrows as she studied the balloon. Her gaze shifted down below until she found me. Surprise marking her features, she looked at the balloon again, lips erupting into a smile. Though I couldn't hear it, I knew laughter had escaped pink lips. Her smile tugged one of my own, the only difference was that hers didn't reach her eyes. Impossible my worries doubled. I saw the pain, the exhaustion in her eyes, that she fought to keep at bay. I was reaching a level of desperation that nearly had me on my knees to beg. Let me in. Let me try to help!

      She contemplated her next move for painfully long seconds. When she finally opened the window, I held my breath in anticipation.

     "What are you doing here?" she asked softly.

      I was thankful that the dark hid my blush. "A unicorn in dark times." That was the best response I could come up with. Such a dork. "I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but I would feel a lot better if you would let me keep you company." She had no time to even consider answering, I was already rambling on. "You're probably annoyed that I'm here or embarrassed for me. I don't mean to intrude your privacy. Obviously, you wanted to be alone, per your lack of responses to our texts. Even though that's not what you need—but who I am to say what you need? I won't blame you for whatever you decide... But know, that I physically wouldn't be able to find it in myself to leave. Even if I have to pop Mr. Norbert and take shelter under the bush. I realise how creepy that would—" My floundering cut off with an indignant gasp. Amelia disappeared from the window. I had worried that my actions would upset her, but no part of me had expected her to ignore me. Stupefied, I blinked at the empty space she had held only moments past. Contemplating my next move, I blinked mindlessly until she reappeared. Long arms tossed a rope ladder onto the white siding. I blinked once more, brows knitting together. Amelia's lips twitched as she nodded her head behind her shoulder.

      "You want me to come in?" I asked, mouth agape.

      "Yes," she chuckled. "Once I got over the initial shock, I was relieved to see that it was you."

      Reaching for the ladder, I grimaced. "Probably not my wisest idea to knock on your bedroom window at 11:30 at night," I said. "You probably thought I was a murderer or something. My bad."

      "You watch too many movies." She laughed, stepping aside to help me inside. "I was more worried about finding a Romeo wanna-be. I thought I'd have to reject some strange guy, because I'm very much not looking for a heterosexual relationship."

      I considered the idea that I might have been coming down with something. The was my face kept warming was ridiculous. If I was the Romeo in this story, Amelia wouldn't be my Juliet. I wouldn't let it happen. We could not share the same ending. Death had already marked my faith, but I wouldn't let it mark hers. Only one of our stories' endings would be titled a tragedy.

      Feet planted on the soft carpet, we both shuffled nervously, unsure how to proceed. I let the balloon float up to her ceiling and waited for her to take the lead. Sheepishly, Amelia took an armful of clothes off her purple beanbag chair and nodded to the seat in offering. Gingerly, I sank into the bag. Pushing two empty water bottles from the corner of her bed, she sat down as well. Green eyes grazed her room in shame. "Sorry about the mess... I wasn't expecting anyone."

      "You don't have to apologize for that." Not to me. Not when I had seen worst; when I had done worst.24

      She smiled wryly, eyes twinkling like she was about to crack a joke to lighten the mood.

     "It probably goes against all of your instincts, but you don't have to fake a smile for my sake."25 My words may as well have been a slap to the face. Her lips flickering aimlessly, as if torn between maintaining her academy worthy smile or letting me see the truth. In the end, like any person on the verge of breaking down, like a child with a new injury forced with the request of honesty, she crumbled under the farce of playing fine. Her shoulders fell, body slouched and limbs hanging loosely. In a single breath, she let me see everything she was feeling, let me see the sense of defeat and it took my breath away in the worse way possible. I had been waiting for this, silently begging her to let me in. But nothing could have prepared me for the shattered mess in my chest upon witnessing her vulnerability.

       "I'm just so..." She flapped her arms helplessly. "So tired, Addie. And so... something. I don't know how to explain it."

      I nodded sympathetically. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to. But I'm listening when you're ready."

       Amelia nodded, the faintest breath of liberation parting her lips. Her eyes fluttered around her room, as if planning her next move. If I could read her mind, I'd guess that she was thinking, if not to talk, what are you doing here? It was strange to see her so nervous. Even stranger for me to have to take the lead. Talking about everything was tonight's goal, but I knew better than to jump right into it. Mustering uncharacteristic confidence, I scootched over on the beanbag, then nodded towards the new empty spot and her idle TV. The beanbag wasn't meant for two, but we could make it work. Amelia understood my silent words. After retrieving the remote from her bedside table, she joined me, cautiously taking a seat. Sitting so close that our thighs and shoulders brushed, my heart soared. Plenty of times I had sat this way with my friend Jayla. That girl had no sense of personal space, but never had she made my pulse spike or skin erupt with goosebumps when she did so. I wondered idly if Amelia was using some sort of product to trigger my allergies. Could allergies cause tachycardia and sweating? Whatever the culprit was, I'd never complain. She always smelt good. Though today her familiar scent was fainter than usual.

      "Sorry, I haven't shaved in a few days."

      I tore my gaze from long pale legs with tinted cheeks. In mid-thigh length plaid shorts, her long legs were on display, and I hadn't realized I was staring so intently at her silky skin.

      "Me neither," I reassured quickly. I couldn't have cared less, even if she went her whole life without shaving. It wasn't any of my business, and Amelia could rock any look. "They just look soft," I added as if to explain the staring. I regretted my words before I even finished speaking them. Those were words that should have remained a thought. I knew allergies made your nose run, but could they make a person run their mouth too?

      Her lips twitched and I couldn't tell if it was to conceal laughter or to bite back unsaid words. She probably didn't know what to say. What an odd comment to make. I thanked the stars that I had opted for cargo pants, otherwise I may have been tempted to physically test my theory that her legs were soft.

      "What do you want to watch?" Amelia saved me the struggle of recovering from my awkwardness. I relaxed a little, shoulders pressing more firmly into hers.

      "Oh, um, anything you like." I hoped she wasn't as passive in her decisions as I was, or we'd spend the night flipping through channels. Wordlessly, she made her choice; no objection at having to be the one to decide. She leaned forward to slide the remote across her nightstand and was somehow closer when she sank back down in her seat. A perfect opportunity to learn more about her interests, wasted. There was no chance of paying attention to a single word said, let alone the title. The sole thing on the screen that caught my attention was a pair of green eyes that reminded me of those that belonged to the girl that was almost sat in my lap. My thoughts consisted of: so green. Why can't I take a full breath? Has she noticed my damp skin from our fused forearms?

       "Can I ask you a personal question?" Spoken after a long silence, her words startled me.

     "Anything."

     "You'd tell me if I overstepped?"

      I nodded. I doubted there was any subject I wouldn't breach if it meant helping her.

      "Did you ever consider telling your mom about everything before...that day?"

      "More times than I can count." I released a shaky breath. "So many nights I tried, but I could never go through with it... One night specifically, I was seconds away from breaking down. I had had a bad day, really dug into the self-loathing. I just wanted to escape to my room so that I could let myself cry without causing concern. I said my usual goodnights and steps away from my room, as if she subconsciously knew I needed it, she pulled me into her arms to dance. It was just goofy twirling and two stepping in the hallway. If she consciously suspected that I was hurting, I know there would have been a lot more to it. And it probably seems like an insignificant moment, but the love in her eyes and smile tore at every part of my soul. I barely managed to shut my door before breaking down. I wanted so badly to let myself break in her arms. But the joy on her face stopped me every time."26

      "You didn't want to hurt her?"

      I nodded. "She's the typical fierce mama-bear: hurt my child and I'll hurt you, type. I didn't know how to tell her that I was the sole person responsible for my pain. So, I kept everything to myself to save her the ache and ended up hurting her so much more."

      Please don't hurt your people like I did mine, Amelia.

      "How is she since?" The silence following the implication of her last word was palpable. I swallowed the lump in my throat; hating that I couldn't be completely honest. There were no words to describe the way my mother felt now.

      Since I couldn't tell her the truth, I went for what I thought the truth would look like. "She's so supportive." I swallowed my emotions. "I can't say with certainty what she's feeling. She's always tried to stay strong for my sake. I feel as though she thinks I didn't trust her enough to share the real way I was struggling. But it had nothing to do with trust, because there is no one I trust more than my mother."27

      Amelia nodded, staring off into space. "It's hard to find a fitting time28 to bring up the subject too. Especially when you don't really know how to explain the way you're feeling."

      I hummed my agreement. A big part of my struggles rested in the idea that I didn't want to admit the extent of my sadness, when I couldn't pinpoint a reason to feel so dejected. Sometimes I thought that having a picture-perfect life made my emotional welfare worse, as I couldn't imagine how things would get better if I couldn't even enjoy myself when I was blessed.

       I stopped beating around the bush.29 "Have you considered talking to your parents?"

      The way her face contorted was the only answer I needed. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

       "You could tell them just like that," I said. "Sit them down for a chat. Be honest in the way you're feeling, and that you need support. You could have them help choose a therapist. A therapist could be helpful in the sense that they're not biased and will tell you the truth." I hoped she couldn't tell that I was basically reciting what I've read on google.

     Her nose crinkled in show that she believed my suggestion unappealing. Most of us humans are prideful. Social norms have made us to feel weak for needing help, but I had learned that there was nothing braver than admitting to requiring help.

      "Isn't it awkward telling a stranger about your life?" She asked.

     I wouldn't know, but I could imagine so. "At first, yes. At least for me. But it really does have a lot of benefits." I had stacks of pages, in my bedroom, listing said benefits. Before I lost my chance, I launched into every bit of information I learned. I told her about my research and the different resources that might interest her. I hadn't come in with the intention of telling her about all my plans, but her prompts and attentive listening pulled the words from my lips. Once I realised how long I had been babbling on, my gaze trailed the floor. Too much, Addie.

      "Hey." She pulled my chin up with a soft finger. "Don't be embarrassed for speaking up about things that are important to you... I'm sure you'll do a lot of good with all the ideas you have. And I'm sure the rest of the group will also want to help."

       I couldn't control my growing grin. Even when she was feeling down, she was helping me up.

      "Also?" Hope swirled in my chest. "Does that mean you want to help?"

      There was no hesitation. "Of course." Whether she believed in my ideas or not, she seemed to understand the importance to which I regarded them. "I'd love to help you with your campaign to help others find their unicorns."

      I smiled, happy to have another mean of holding her company, but the thought of sharing our thing strangely made me queasy. As if reading my mind, she corrected herself.

      "Well, we'd have to name it something else, because I want to keep the unicorn part to ourselves."

       I tried to downplay the excitement on my face. I couldn't explain the relief her words brought me. "So, we're still on for finding unicorns?"

       A soft huff of laughter escaped her lips, likely at the ridiculousness of my sentence.

      "Give me a few days30, and I'll play the part of the most enthusiastic unicorn chaser you can find."

      You don't have to play a part. I didn't want her to ever be anyone but herself, even if that meant days of silence or rest. But I knew how taxing it could be to let someone see the darkest of your moods and thoughts. I didn't push it.

      "I have my mind set on finding the biggest unicorn possible," she added. I wasn't fooled by the exaggerated enthusiasm to cover her ache. Still, I didn't push. I feared pushing too much and ruining everything. People said it was often those with the brightest smiles who were hurting the most. Just like Amelia, many acted in a way to compensate for their feelings. But if there's anything more taxing than letting people in, it's maintaining the farce that you're okay.

      I exaggerate concern, eyes crinkling in their corners to lighten the mood. Baby steps.

     Amelia arched a brow, challenging my playful apprehension.

      "I'll follow you on our unicorn hunt," I started. "But I might require a lot of prodding. I don't think I'm anywhere near as adventurous as you."

      If anything involved as great of heights as the swing ride, Amelia would have her work cut out.

      "You're probably more adventurous that you believe. And I've been told that I can be quite convincing."

      "I don't doubt it." The way her full attention set on me, now, would probably have me doing things I couldn't imagine in my wildest dreams. There was something in the sparkle in her eyes that made me reckless.

      "I can help you out of your comfort zone. Promise I'll make it worth your while."

      Promise I'll make it worth your while... My heart ticked in my chest. An immediate answer came to mind, but I swallowed it considering it a few moments longer. I didn't want her to take offense. But I had a chance to do something big and the opportunity wouldn't arise often.

      "I'll let you make an adventurous person of me, if you promise to try therapy."31

      The change in her expression and posture was instant; nerve struck. She was rigid next to me, gaze uncharacteristically cool as every single one of her guards shot up. I willed myself not to react. I knew the reaction would be a possibility. I clung to hope that she knew me well enough to see my true intentions. This wasn't judgement or an attempt to control her life.

      Her face contorted, caught between anger and sadness.

      "Amelia, I say this only because I see a lot of my story in yours..." I was sure she was destined to live her story until the end, no skipped chapters. "It can't hurt to try, right?"

      Just as I begun to believe I'd made a grave mistake her features softened. The moment of unshielded torture in her eyes clawed at my throat.

      "Okay." She agreed so quietly that I would have missed it if we weren't sitting so close.

       I nearly cried out with relief. "Really?"

       Fear reaped her pores, but she nodded. "We've got ourselves another deal, Addilyn Byrn."

      There was so much to say, so much that I wanted to celebrate. I wanted to show her the pride and the relief warming my chest, but her green eyes were glazed over with exhaustion. She looked as though she was ready to fall over. I was on the brink of pushing her to her limits.

      "You're tired," I stated the obvious. I made move to stand. On my bad days, I just wanted to lay in bed and do nothing. I didn't want to impose on her too long. "I should let you get some rest."

      I was halfway in a crouched position when she tentatively yanked on the hem of my shirt. I turned my head, eyes patient.

     "You could stay a while... if you want."

      My heart thundered, pounding so hard that I was sure she could see the ticking on my neck. She wanted me to stay.

     "I'd love to stay a while."

      She released a breath that I didn't know she was holding when I sat back down.

      "I'm not in the mood to chat much," she warned. "But we could watch some more TV."

      I nodded eagerly, making myself comfortable. Before I could even process everything that happened, Amelia was asleep. Head lulled on my shoulder, the soft puffs of breath parting her lips chilled my skin. There was no chance of moving. Insistent on not waking her, I laid there for many minutes, eyelids gradually growing heavier until I too was fast asleep. 

Footnotes

24. We're almost conditioned to hide are true feelings. To hide our real thoughts and feelings, unless those emotions are positive. We're taught to hide our feelings if there's potential that it will cause discomfort in another person. I'm here to remind you that it's okay to be honest.

25. I faked a smile for a long time. And while there's genuine benefit from smiling even when we don't feel like it, you can only pretend for so long before your emotions catch up to you. Like a dam ready to explode, those feelings will eventually surface.

26. The people you trust and love the most want to hear your truth. My mother would have wanted to hear the truth. I want to hear your truth. Professionals want to hear your truth. You deserve the liberation of expressing your burdens.

27. Please don't feel as though a person you love doesn't trust you if they chose against sharing their struggles with you. There could be many other factors playing into it. Like Addie, there is no one I trust more than my parents. A lack of trust had nothing to do with my hesitation to share my experience with them.

28. There is no such thing as a fitting time for difficult conversations. Anytime is fitting if you need help.

29. It takes not beating around the bush. When we're dealing with mental illnesses like depression and suicidal ideations, what we typically require is being straightforward. There's no need for sugar-coating. We need honesty to understand the extent of what we're dealing with.

30. There's no single timeframe for healing when it comes to mental illnesses. It can be days, weeks, months, or years. There's no right answer. Any step forward is an achievement. Please don't be so hard on yourself if you're not healing as fast as you think you should. Mental health is a lifelong work-in-progress.

31. I don't believe in the use of ultimatums unless a situation turns drastic and demands it. Sometimes drastic steps have to be taken to ensure someone's well-being. But if that is the case, let professionals take the next steps.