Depression

Depression.

That's the thing with depression. It sneaks in.

No sirens. No banners. No trumpets. Just a slither. A soft, hair raising slither. Of an old friend who has risen from the dead.

It whispers on those initial sleepless nights. Creaks on tossing pillows and crumpled sheets. Whirrs as thoughts after thoughts race and maul each other.

It rattles with the memory that comes back. It tinkers with the words that poke n scab. It lets itself slide to the floor and break down as the symphony of raking claws plays on in the background.

It bites down hard on the lips. Clutches at folds of clothing. Heaves down chests and creeps down the spine.

That's the thing with depression. It sneaks in.

- Akshay.