Hi everyone

I am trying to write a backstory for one of my characters who is prone to depression; it is my attempt to explore what the reasons are that people suffer depression; nature or nurture? I'd appreciate your opinion.

cheers.


                                                 Chasing shadows in the moonlight.

 The full moon, in all its glory rendered the blanket of stars to a faint twinkle. Catherine lay down in the newly mowed grass; it couldn’t be called a lawn; it straggled its way up to the front steps where it petered out from the years of footsteps.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom spartan and lacking warmth, her other self, Ce-Ce chases sleep in the bed that becomes a war zone. Unable to hear her heartbeat, fearing and hoping at the same time that she is dying, she tries to feel her pulse, with two middle fingers at the base of her thumb, but it’s not there. She places her fingers at the base of her neck, to the side hoping to find the carotid artery or is it the jugular? There’s a faint lub-dub that reassures her of the reality of the never-ending nightmare. Hours after turning out the lamp she is till alert to all the images competing for attention. Snatches of a Latin hymn sung lustily years ago; words that come hurtling from the distant past that wound still; scenes of a rejected child so close but so far away. Ce-Ce turns on her side and hugs the spare pillow in search of oblivion.

Downstairs in the garden, unaware of what is happening upstairs, Catherine revels in the light of the moon; the Frangipani reaches out its empty arms, throwing shadows on the verandah; it won’t be long before its arms are full of fragrance. For now, it scratches at the window. Tonight, the ocean breeze brings memories of sunlight, bindii and paspalum; hot sand beneath her feet and sparkling waves calling her. Visions of collecting shells on the rock shelf to take home and to treasure. She held them close as her brother Joe was inclined to steal her treasures, only to fling them back into the sea.

Hopeful of finding sleep, Ce-Ce forces her thoughts to happy memories of the ocean and teaching herself to catch the waves; being dumped at the shore, running back to recapture the joy, by doing it again and again. She was nothing if not persistent, a trait that remained with her. She found hundreds of broken shells in her quest to find the perfect one which she called home. Distinctive in its circular shape, she found a few, but always with a hole or smashed in by an intruder who devoured the small sea creature. A new thought occurred, that the creature might have outgrown its home and decided to leave.

Emily’s voice, the voice of reason intrudes; ‘don’t waste your time looking for the perfect shell, Ce-Ce you won’t find it. There’s no such thing. Better that you learn to swim properly instead.’

 If it wasn’t Joe spoiling her small pleasures, it was Emily. She hated being called Ce-Ce and buried her head beneath the blankets to shut it out.

Back in the moonlight, beneath the stars, Catherine doesn’t find sleep either, recalling that day with bitterness.

 

 

 

 


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