In a harmonious clatter, the crowd swayed to the sound of batters cracking baseballs. Clad in red and white outfits, they all cheered for the home-team, the Phillies. They sang, and spat; laughed, and barked. All of them appeared to be happy; they were enjoying their night out.
Hundreds of feet beneath me, the field gleamed as if it were an emerald quarry. I watched the players dig their heels into the field, and kick up the earth carelessly. They were desecrating the Earth. Every pounce, every stomp, every scream sent a jolt through my body as if I were a nymph tied to Gaea. ‘Why don’t they treat our planet with respect?’ I thought.
Curling up into my seat like a newborn, I googled ‘symptoms of teenage depression.’ I felt like a weed in a meadow of sunflowers, the pimple festering on the stadium's face. I was never an athletic child; I preferred dolls to G.I. Joe’s. I wanted to evacuate the stadium immediately, where I could drink tea, and read a book.
As they cheered, I watched the sun fall from the sky, kissing the horizon goodnight. 'Why aren't I enjoying this? What happened to me? Why can't I laugh along with them?' I thought.
In the row beside me, my brothers and cousins gazed at the game. Their faces were plastered in grins; their lips shone pink like a vein of quartz. Freckles lined their noses, and tropical waters flowed through their irises. They radiated innocence through their high-pitched giggles. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, tossing and turning to the sound of my conscience saying, ‘Look at them, look at how happy they are! You should be just as happy as them. What happened to you?’
The sun dipped behind the scoreboard, transforming the field into a negative-photograph, a bruise-like reflection of what it was a moment ago. The players seemed like action figures, mechanically moving from throw to throw, catch to catch. I couldn’t focus on the ball. Everything blurred away into a Monet painting of cool colors: blue, purple, and black. ‘Just make yourself happy. At least, try to follow the game.’
I shied away from the field, compacting myself into a human-ball. The lights snapped on above, and I hid my face from my family. Hours slipped by as I pondered my problems. The melody of the crowd’s laughter only made me more upset. ‘You were happy once, just try to seem like you’re still happy.’
As the game finished, my family drove home together, conversing about the excitement of it all. My brother reminded me that we won by twelve points that night, but I only remember wondering how many of my symptoms match ‘Major Depressive Disorder.’