A short...story, if you will.
All this inward anger.
One.
Two.
Count to ten.
Three.
Four.
Is it time?
Five.
Six.
She’s not ready for it.
Seven.
Eight.
Can’t handle the truth.
Nine.
TEN.
Take a wild swing.
NO!
And I punch that pretty little face in.
Two years…it had been two fucking years…how many times stabbed in the back? How many times treated unjustly? How was this the wrong thing to do when it felt so right?
Her face is more shocked than anything. Who would expect that from the calm quiet one? We were friends, weren’t we? Sure, there had been mean comments exchanged throughout the years…but who remembered those? Things were talked about, made better…just like things always were.
“It doesn’t work that way,” I snarl. I know just what she is thinking. She cowers away from me, frightened, surprised, and hurt. “It doesn’t fucking work that way!” I scream again, as if giving myself an excuse for my actions.
Her eyes blink back tears.
“What’s wrong?” she asks me. “What did I do?”
“Ask yourself.” Great, now I can’t even make eye contact. “I’ve held this in for too long! Well guess what, I’ve changed. I’m not the same girl I used to be. Unfortunately, you are.”
She is so confused. I knew this was coming. I told myself; she’s not mature enough to hear this, she’s not ready for the real world.
“But, I thought everything was okay now. I thought we talked about things!”
I laugh hollowly. “You have no idea, do you? You have no idea what you did to me! You have no idea what it feels like…sitting there with a razor to your thighs, to your wrists, debating whether you should make that one last cut. To put up with false friendship…to put up a false front. To pretend everything is okay. You are so wrong. I don’t honestly care about your problems, you don’t compare problems, you don’t tell someone you have it so bad off. Fucking spoiled bitch. I wish I could be you. Maybe then my life wouldn’t be such a mess…and that just won’t go through your thick little head, will it?”
She stares at me some more, possibly trying to take in everything that I’ve just said to her.
It’s impossible, I can see it in her eyes.
And I’m wrong. I’m always wrong. Isn’t that how this all started, two long years ago?
“Oh right. I forgot, you can’t expect that much out of someone who can’t give anything.”
And suddenly I know something that she doesn’t.
I am on top of the world with my knowledge, far above where she is, or she’ll ever be.
I’m not wrong.
“I’m not wrong,” I laugh at her. Her face falls even more. “For once in my fucking life, I’m not wrong. You’re wrong. And that’s the way it is. You can’t always expect to be on top of the world.”
“But I don’t-”
“It’s okay now. And it will be.” I turn to walk away. “I’m sorry. For everything.”
She is silent.
“Zoë…”
Her lips form my name quietly. I just laugh as I walk away from her; away from my past; away from everything that haunts me…away from what’s holding me back.
I turn the page as another chapter of my life finishes.
END.
One.
Two.
Count to ten.
Three.
Four.
Is it time?
Five.
Six.
She’s not ready for it.
Seven.
Eight.
Can’t handle the truth.
Nine.
TEN.
Take a wild swing.
NO!
And I punch that pretty little face in.
Two years…it had been two fucking years…how many times stabbed in the back? How many times treated unjustly? How was this the wrong thing to do when it felt so right?
Her face is more shocked than anything. Who would expect that from the calm quiet one? We were friends, weren’t we? Sure, there had been mean comments exchanged throughout the years…but who remembered those? Things were talked about, made better…just like things always were.
“It doesn’t work that way,” I snarl. I know just what she is thinking. She cowers away from me, frightened, surprised, and hurt. “It doesn’t fucking work that way!” I scream again, as if giving myself an excuse for my actions.
Her eyes blink back tears.
“What’s wrong?” she asks me. “What did I do?”
“Ask yourself.” Great, now I can’t even make eye contact. “I’ve held this in for too long! Well guess what, I’ve changed. I’m not the same girl I used to be. Unfortunately, you are.”
She is so confused. I knew this was coming. I told myself; she’s not mature enough to hear this, she’s not ready for the real world.
“But, I thought everything was okay now. I thought we talked about things!”
I laugh hollowly. “You have no idea, do you? You have no idea what you did to me! You have no idea what it feels like…sitting there with a razor to your thighs, to your wrists, debating whether you should make that one last cut. To put up with false friendship…to put up a false front. To pretend everything is okay. You are so wrong. I don’t honestly care about your problems, you don’t compare problems, you don’t tell someone you have it so bad off. Fucking spoiled bitch. I wish I could be you. Maybe then my life wouldn’t be such a mess…and that just won’t go through your thick little head, will it?”
She stares at me some more, possibly trying to take in everything that I’ve just said to her.
It’s impossible, I can see it in her eyes.
And I’m wrong. I’m always wrong. Isn’t that how this all started, two long years ago?
“Oh right. I forgot, you can’t expect that much out of someone who can’t give anything.”
And suddenly I know something that she doesn’t.
I am on top of the world with my knowledge, far above where she is, or she’ll ever be.
I’m not wrong.
“I’m not wrong,” I laugh at her. Her face falls even more. “For once in my fucking life, I’m not wrong. You’re wrong. And that’s the way it is. You can’t always expect to be on top of the world.”
“But I don’t-”
“It’s okay now. And it will be.” I turn to walk away. “I’m sorry. For everything.”
She is silent.
“Zoë…”
Her lips form my name quietly. I just laugh as I walk away from her; away from my past; away from everything that haunts me…away from what’s holding me back.
I turn the page as another chapter of my life finishes.
END.