Depressed Stick Figure Meme Novels & Stories

Jeje said. “Suicidal?” Kartika is wondering. “A tendency to suicide. Like self-harming letting him getting beaten up like that. This happens because of a depression that he can’t feel happy anymore. He might look like a cheerful guy, but deep inside his heart, he has a sorrowful sadness buried there.” Jeje explained. ”And as you can see, he becomes like this as he is venting all of his anxiety and wrath he buried all this time. What will happen when a bully victim has a chance to bully the one who bullies him?”

It didn’t take me long to figure out what was going on—Jaxon was going viral. “This is going to be fun,” Kade chuckled and then kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you later.” I watched him disappear and then kept walking. I stopped in front of a locker to peel off one of the stickers. It was a cartoonish meme of Jaxon, complete with exaggerated wide eyes and a speech bubble that read: "Bidding $5000 on an ex? Obsessed much?" I scoffed, shaking my head. The next one was even worse—"Jaxon’s Punch: Weakest Move of the Year."

The exclamation mark then transformed into an image: a thumbs-down sign, clearly conveying mockery. Underneath the image was a message: "Improve your skills before coming back. You're embarrassing yourself!"

It was like someone had loosened a knot that I did not know was there. By the next week the messages stretched longer. She started sending memes that was about anxiety brain fog. A cartoon character that was staring blankly at the wall with the caption “when your thoughts are buffering.” I laughed out loud in my kitchen. The sound made even me surprised. I replied with a crying laughing emoji and then I added. “Too real.”

He always turns something innocent into something pathetic just to make me feel worthless. “I hope she cries tomorrow. Honestly, I need something to upload on my YouTube channel, and nothing’s as catchy as an eighteen-year-old crying on her first day of college. The caption will be something like—” Caden puts his hands under his chin, pretending to think. “Déjà vu for Mad. She started her education as a crybaby and is wrapping it up with the same attitude, only it has worsened. For now, she’s turned into a pseudobulbar.” He grins.

He didn’t sigh when she arrived three minutes late to a pitch. He smirked — smirked! — when she called him “Spreadsheet Daddy” under her breath. And then, on Friday, the impossible happened. He laughed. Not a smirk. Not a scoff. A real, low, quiet chuckle. All because she’d Photoshopped his face onto a Renaissance painting for a meme she titled: "Sebastian Mason, Patron Saint of Budget Cuts." It was in the middle of a staff email chain titled “Friday Madness.” She hadn’t expected him to see it.

Over my dead fucking body. **************************************************

So I pulled out my phone again, this time scrolling through my saved folder labeled “EMERGENCY GIGGLES.” I found a meme I knew would work. A sketchy cartoon cat trying to play a grand piano with arms that were way too short. It was dumb. Like, impressively dumb. “Look at this,” I said, turning the screen toward him. He glanced at it. Blinked. Then let out a snort. “That’s so stupid,” he said. “But you smiled.” “No, I didn’t.” “You totally did.” He rolled his eyes, took a long sip of juice, then bumped his shoulder into mine. “Okay. Maybe I did.”