The Unfathomable Four.

Chapter 1


"There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds."
- Laurell K. Hamilton

To Drew it was always just a word. Eight out of twenty-six letters, rearranged, doubled, split and sown back together to make just one of the thousands of words typed on the pages of the English dictionary. Her friends used it so loosely she became numb to it; numb to the whole concept.

"This is so Depressing!"

"I forgot my car keys...again! Can you say, Depression!"

"Great, now I'm Depressed..."

Depressed, Depressed...


The word began to sound like a slur to Drew. It began to take on that strange, unfamiliar sound a word adopts when said repeatedly. To her it didn't seem real. It was just being...sad. Down in the dumps. Blue.

Blue...a colour. Just a colour on a broad spectrum. A colour that had many different shades and hues. Some pleasing to gaze upon, others darker...deeper. Blue is how you describe the sky or the ocean, not Depression. Depression is how you describe a mental illness, not being blue.


The word rang in Drew's head as she stared down into the open coffin.

Just a word.

"Drew, I think I have Depression..."

Just a word.

"I don't like what's going on around me..."

Just a word.

"I don't belong here..."

Just a word.

"I don't want to live."




A word that can kill. A word that causes pain. A word that can spread itself, like a cunning disease, coursing it's vile way through the exposed veins of it's most recent victim's family and friends.

Drew wouldn't let it get her. She blinked back tears, refusing to let them fall. Depression wouldn't win. She knew it now. What it really meant. What it could really do. Not just a word; a killer. Merciless. Cold. Blue.

The scars were striking, ringing the wrists like some morbid bracelet. No amount of makeup able to conceal the elephant in the room. The taboo topic that had been swept under the rug. The scars revealed all. They rode the elephant, hollered the topic, lifted the rug. The scars were a symbol. They marked a mistake made somewhere along the way, emotions unfiltered, repressed fears. There were Depression's trademark.

They were blue.

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