To forgive and Forget

 

I look into the mirror and let my eyes travel. They see a girl; they see her lank brown hair hanging about her head, they see a face that could use a good acne cream, they see a body that could have gone without eating that last Oreo; they see me. My eyes see the dark dress I have dug out from some dark corner of my closet, they study the way it fits as I turn from side to side; they judge. They travel up to my neck where they stop, suddenly. Hanging there is a necklace that I have had as long as I can remember. It’s silver and plain with just a hint of writing. I let my hand slowly rise and caress it. My fingers can feel the rough grooves where the words “Best” had been etched, half of a heart. The other half, “Friends”, is around the neck of the girl who was lying in a coffin, three blocks away. Today is her funeral.

I know what I will think when I look at her. “How could you do this to me! How could you leave me?” She promised to be there for me, like I promised her. I’ll shout at her silently “Why didn’t you tell me?” but of course there will be no answer. There will never be an answer. Her suicide note which had been found next to her body confused me more than it explained.  She had written to me, telling me how imperfect she felt, how she couldn’t handle the stress of being judged. My friend, my beautiful friend, my other half. She with the golden hair and perfect figure! She with the snow white skin and brown eyes! Judged, imperfect, stressed. That girl who was friends with me. She went on in her letter explaining how glad she was to have had me for friend; I was her true friend who never judged.

She was beautiful, she was everything I wanted to be, yet she was jealous of me. How? Me, I am judged, imperfect, stressed. How? She said she loved me and she would miss me, but apparently I wasn’t good enough to help her, to talk to her, to save her, if I was so wonderful to her, why couldn’t I? She said I was always there for her, and she trusted me more than anyone. Not enough I guess.

I will miss my friend, my sister, my other half, but I know that when I see her lying in that coffin, my eyes will see her, they will love, and they will not judge.

Reviews

[emily]

interesting. A little dark for the Seventeen contest, but a really good piece all in all! (much better than the one that won this year, i must say... though not much could be worse :-)

[Rose Kavanagh]

Wow, that was a really powerful piece. I could feel the emotion dripping from every line. I love how you started and ended the story the same way, it gave it a sense of finality and conclusion, even though it only depicted one small scene.

It also hit a bit close to home for me, as one of my best friends was going through an eating disorder last year and (though she didn't commit suicide- thank God) she still didn't trust me enough to tell me about it first. Instead, she chose to confide in another girl who - to be brutally honest - had enough problems of her own (a similar disorder, family issues, and general "whorishness"). I was hurt, to say the least, especially since, even after I forced the truth out of her, she still wanted to talk to the other girl about it (who ended up leaving school in an ambulance later that week, as she hadn't eaten in three days).

Sorry, I didn't mean to turn this review into a psychiatric session for me, ha ha. I just have an idea of how it feels and you displayed it quite accurately here. Nice work :)