Depression

Reese's apartment was small, and looking from the front door you could see the entirety of it. Directly to the right of the front door was a low wall, behind which was a small dining table and a set of chairs that went along with it. To the left of the front door was a small closet filled with jackets, hoodies, and Reese's shoes.

Beyond the small dining area was the kitchen, and another low wall separated the kitchen from the rest of the front room. Directly in front of the entrance was a dark hallway with 3 doors, one to the left, one on the right, and one at the end of the hallway. The doorway to the left led to Reese's bedroom, the doorway on the right led to a small bathroom, and a guest bedroom that had been converted into a storage room lay at the end of the hallway.

Directly to the left of the hallway was a living room that took up the majority of the space in the apartment, with three cream white couches arranged in an L shape. In the middle of the arrangement of couches was a small wood and glass coffee table with golden trim, with a 55 inch flat screen TV mounted to the wall above a fireplace that looked as if it got plenty of use.

The wall directly opposite the kitchen was mainly taken up by a large sliding glass door that led to a small patio area, and the floors of the apartment were carpeted except for the kitchen and a small area in front of the fireplace that had linoleum instead. In the corner of the living room, situated between the side of one of the couches and the wall was the desk with the computer on it that Reese had been working on before his frustration overwhelmed him.

Reese had started working straight out of high school, and this apartment had been one of the first purchases he made with the money he earned, so he was fairly attached to the apartment after living in it for the past 4 years.

As Reese sat there smoking, he started to think about his debts and all of the work that he had yet to complete and anxiety started to make butterflies move about in his stomach, the slight relaxation brought by the weed disappearing in the massive wave of worry and depression that those two subjects put him under.

"What, am I going to do," Reese spoke aloud while trying yet again to think of a way to dig himself out of the hole he'd dug for himself. While the MS job seemed like it could solve all his problems as long he managed to keep the job for another couple of months, he knew that all it would take is a check up on his progress with the codes to completely ruin any chance he had at being able to pay all of his bills. For the last few days he had been contemplating ways to try and rectify his current situation, but he couldn't find any way out of his predicament.

'I don't know what to do,' he thought as hopelessness threatened to take over. ' I don't know anything about all this programming, and I don't know anyone I trust enough to ask to teach me. As of right now, all I'm really able to do is hope that my name doesn't come up on the progress review list for the next couple of weeks.' At the realization of how helpless he was in this moment, a numb sensation that Reese had become increasingly familiar with recently spread throughout his body, suppressing his anxiety and replacing with apathy.

Reese had been suffering from depression since middle school, but since high school started it hadn't reared its ugly head until the last couple of months.

Along with that familiar numbness came a lack of motivation to do anything but continue sitting there and smoking that Reese didn't even attempt to try and fight against, sitting and smoking until the light from outside slowly faded away until only the artificial orange light from the streetlights and the smoke from the blunts remained in the room , only interrupted by a bright flash of light from the lighter being sparked occasionally to light another blunt.

This lack of motivation caused him to ignore the loud ding that came from his phone that was sitting by the computer, and instead of checking it Reese continued to sit in the dimly lit living room, his eyelids dragging low after the smoke sesh as a powerful urge to sleep finally got him to leave his spot on the couch as he stumbled to his bedroom.

Pushing open the door haphazardly, he collapsed on his bed, too tired to bother removing his clothing so he lay in bed watching lights move across his ceiling from the headlights of cars driving past until he finally slipped into a fitful sleep.