Confession In The Flames

This is a story I wrote for my English Language A Level coursework.

I slam my eyes shut. Maybe if I keep them closed for long enough then I can wake up and it’ll all just be a dream. What a cliché that would be. There’s no fairy tale story here though. It couldn’t be further from a fairy tale. It’s my fault that I found out the way I did; I could have left it and never said a word �" but I couldn’t stop myself. Now I’m left with the painful image glued inside my mind. It won’t leave me alone and I wish none of it ever happened. This didn’t exist in my butterfly-catching days. Back when a cut was from falling over and scraping your knee on the tarmac in the playground. I’d love to be a child again. It’s strange �" we all wanted to grow up as soon as we could and now we have, we want to escape our cruel, harsh life. Every memory is bitter-sweet or rose-tinted and all I want to do is escape. Run away and abandon my life but of course, I can’t do that. I’m sitting here on a brown leather sofa, facing the person who means the most to me. The boy who has been so miserable lately �" why? Well, now I know why. Now I know everything. I never saw the signs that day. It was hot, hotter than usual. Part of me wondered how he could wear a jumper in the blistering heat. I shrugged it off �" maybe he was ill, I thought. I hugged him that day too; I never saw him wince or heard the quiet intake of breath.

It’s Monday today. I should be rehearsing for the production I’m performing in December but I can’t leave now. I need to tell him that everything’s going to be okay but how can I tell him a lie? I can see the evidence in front of me that everything is not okay and just one more ‘event’ could lead to the loss of this intelligent and perfect boy. I can’t believe how things have come this far, this soon. I guess, when I look back, things have been deteriorating for a while. Ever since his parents split up in May, things have been pretty rough. He found it hard to cope but I always tried to help him with anything I could. For him to find out his dad was sleeping with other women instead of going on ‘business trips’ is one thing but to then come home the following day and discover police cars and a fire engine is another. No real harm was done, just an argument that got out of hand. Ever since then, he hasn’t talked as much as he used to. Every sentence lacks emotion. Every smile is drenched in sadness and each laugh is fake. The shock was still enough for his confidence to be destroyed and the people at school weren’t exactly sympathetic either. He became the school’s favourite joke and bully victim. News travels fast. At least we’ve left high school now. I should have seen this coming, why didn’t I see this coming?

I can’t sleep. I can’t get the image of his mutilated arm out of my mind. He was so scared to show me the scars, new and old. I shouldn’t have interrogated him, but I had to find out what was wrong - as after all, he’s my best friend. Even now, I’m trying to find a way to get him out of this hell but I don’t know what to do. What if there’s nothing I can say that will help? I think of every little thing I’ve moaned about, every little argument I’ve had with my parents. I feel guilty for all of it because he’s been going through worse than me. Eventually, I drift off to sleep and dream about him, of course.

I wake up suddenly. It’s 6.03am and I immediately remember what happened yesterday. I’ll see him soon; every day I walk him to our apprenticeship workplace. Both of us work for Cantor Fitzgerald - a financial service. It’s not too far from here, we both live a few blocks away from the many, many buildings and skyscrapers of New York. The sight is astonishing - looking one way I can see nothing but houses and trees, the other I see famous landmarks and one of the major attractions of America. I try to think of something I could say to him but words fail me. It’s the only thought playing on my mind as I get dressed and prepare for the long day ahead. I cannot think of anything else today except him and the recent incidents. I leave the house and walk the few blocks to his house. The air is clearer today and the sun is shining down on the trees as they begin to lose their leaves. When I arrive at his door, I hesitate for a moment. Unsure about what eyes are going to greet me this time. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, before slowly knocking on his wooden door. It doesn’t take long for him to answer the door and say a cheery, “Hello.”

“Let’s go!” he smiles. It’s as if he’s completely forgotten about yesterday’s events, but of course we both know that’s not true. There’s a look that appears in his eyes when they meet mine. A knowing look, trying to hide any fear or sadness but acknowledging that it’s there, lurking in the space between us. He closes the door behind him and off we walk. Despite imagining this moment for the past fourteen hours, words still fail me. In the silence, we walk together, passing the house which always has the biggest and brightest Christmas decorations. We pass the old woman from the little bungalow at the end of my block �" her house always smells of cinnamon. Every second gets harder, and I have to break the silence somehow.

“Nice weather again,” I announce. I know it’s an awful line to choose but I’d rather talk about the weather than spend the rest of this journey in silence.

“Yeah, it is actually. I have a good feeling about today.” He stops for a minute and then chuckles.

“Look at us, we're best friends and yet here we are talking about the weather.”

“I know,” I reply. “But with what happened yesterday, I-” He interrupts me at that point and tells me to forget about yesterday but little does he know that it's all I can think about and simply 'forgetting' about it is impossible. It's as if my mind has been poisoned and every inch of me is filled with this new knowledge that I cannot ignore, pulsating through every vein and destroying any happy memory between us and filling it with blackness. I can barely picture my longest friend the way he always was. This isn't like him at all. All this self-hatred is new to the both of us. It's a self-destructing monster, smothering the life from him and planting a ticking time bomb deep within his brain.

The rest of the journey consists of awkward silences and small talk; I really hope it won't be like this forever. We cross between the two contrasting scenes: blocks and blocks of houses and bungalows, and the other, a vast and tall city. All that’s in between is a road - it’s always hard to cross in the morning when everyone is going to work. Yellow taxis line the roads - along with the many, many cars, any you can imagine. Beeping horns, revving of engines �" they are the noises we hear. People are everywhere too, going about their daily business as normal; hurrying along, trying not to be late. After about ten more minutes, we finally arrive at our skyscraper building and say, “Hi” to the same people we see every day. Most of these people are still new to us though, there are so many workers here and both of us have only been here a few weeks. I love it that I've been through school with my best friend and now here we both are; same workplace, even working on the same floor. We step inside the large elevator and travel up to floor 101.

He still looks unsettled as we reach our office.

“Something’s still not right, is it?” I ask him. I can’t take this lack of knowledge anymore. Yes, it’s his life and I shouldn’t try to interfere but he’s already told me half the story. I’m dreading whatever it is that he’s hiding but all I want to do is help. I stand opposite him but all he can do is look away. The silence remains for what seems like an eternity. He opens his mouth like he’s trying to say something but closes it after a second. My guess is, he’s trying to deny what’s wrong but now he knows he can’t. He’s aware I know him better than anyone.

“Okay. Look. I... You know what happened yesterday, right? Well… Well I’m gonna stop it all, I am. I think, I think you made me realise that, that I don’t need to… um… I shouldn’t do that and… okay I’m just going to say it.”
My heart is going to leap out of my chest. This confirms that there is something else; I knew it all along. He looks to the floor this time as he gushes out his words.

“Okay, well… right. You know that we’re best friends and ever since yesterday I’ve realised that I’m not alone and I have you and I think - I hope that you’re going to help me out of this. I think you’ve already started; I threw away the razors yesterday, after you’d gone. I’m really going to try this time and it’s all because of you. Listen, the thing is…” 

I’m listening to him but I can barely hear his words, as everyone else who is in the room has their attention turned to the window. Now I understand why. I saw it first from the corner of my eye and froze upon realising what was about to happen.

“Are you listening to me?” he asks, frustrated, looking straight at me. Then he turns his head, he sees it - just as I did. The plane. It’s too close. It’s too close to us now. It's too low. I see the looks on people’s faces. What's going on? We’re looking outside. Watching it as it gets closer and closer. Where is it going? The plane is flying straight towards New York’s pride. The Twin Towers. Where we work. People are screaming. Someone’s calling 911. But it's going to be too late. He grabs my hand suddenly and pulls me around until I face him.

“Eliana” He starts in a rush, tears in his eyes. “I-”