My Best Friend

January 9, 2010
By , Boca Raton, FL
We walked arm and arm through the empty hallway, our breathing matching, and our feet moving in unison. “Promise you’ll never lie to me again?” I asked, the pain audible in my voice.

“That’s impossible.” She said back, still not looking at me but rather observing her feet on the ground.

“No.” I said “Nothing’s impossible.” There was a long pause as I waited for a response, but one never came. Finally I spoke again. “Promise me you won’t talk behind my back?” I begged. I was crying softly but just like always she never noticed.

“No.” she said blankly “I can’t make that promise.” There was nothing in her voice that sounded like an apology. It was more like a statement of a basic fact, a truth.

By now I was crying harder, like a waterfall of tears falling from my eyes. I had been down this road before, so why did I keep coming back to it? “But can you promise me one thing?” I sobbed “Promise me we’ll be friends forever?”

She stopped walking and walked to stand in front of me, so we were face to face. Mere inches separated me from her, but I kept my eyes firmly on the ground. “Look at me” she yelled sharply, so I did. Her eyes were blue like mine, but they were more cold and unforgiving. It was almost as if she had been programmed to hurt me.

“When did I ever say we were best friends?” These words hurt me. They killed me. My sobs grew so heavy that they physically hurt, and I felt an unfamiliar urge to hold on to something tightly. Words swirled around in my brain but they couldn’t make it to my lips. Words of hate were unfamiliar territory to me. I couldn’t stand hurting anyone’s feelings, even if that person had hurt me.

Finally I spun around, sprinting out of the empty hallway and into the dark rainy world outside. Behind me she stood still, cackling softly like a witch stirring a potion for disaster. I would never come back I told myself as the tears mixed with the rainfall, becoming indistinguishable from one another as they raced down my face. I would never have another sleepover with her again. I would never go to the mall or the movies with her again. I would make newer, nicer friends who never tried to hurt me, or lied to me. In my mind, she was dead.

Two hours later. I was on the phone with her talking and laughing as if that afternoon had never happened. “Want to sleep over?” I asked excitedly. “We could do each other’s nails, and try to pull an all nighters. It would be fun!” I hated the way I sounded, like a little kid searching for approval from their strict parents.

“No.” she said “I don’t want to sleep over.”

I ignored the sting, and the way her words bruised my hope. Instead I smiled and said “Okay, maybe another time.” Because I knew that no matter how much she hurt me, no matter what she did to me, she would always remain my best friend.

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