How to keep a friend
Do you remember when I went away?
I skipped apologies; I ignored reasons as I stared down at my feet because your eyes looked like they were going to swallow me whole.
I never told you how permanent my terror was to see disappointment painted in your chocolate-brown eyes, it surpassed the horror of drowning in my brother's black holes.
I've been told that friends are a weakness; I've been fed spoonfuls after spoonfuls of nonchalant detachment to everything and everyone around me, since they never will measure to my abilities anyway.
I got bored easily, but somehow you rose to the challenge and miraculously kept me interested.
The way things were seen by your eyes made me take another look. Your thoughtfulness of others got me to inch closer to caring. And your cheerfulness made me believe in less meaningless tomorrows.
Yet I know that I am a killer, I am good at it too, talented as my father says.
I can snatch a beating heart from a chest and crush it in my hand with pleasure. I don't feel guilt; I don't get drunk on remorse.
I only classify people as those who I can fight, and those who I should steer clear of.
And then you were. Right down the middle.
I didn't want to exchange blows with you to see who last standing and I didn't want to avoid you.
It was as if you had me on the hook of your fishing rod and I was caught.
And now I am trapped again. Not by you, and not by my choice.
I opened my eyes acknowledging the chains that held me in mid-air and spared a smirk at my fat brother as he slashes me with a whip; it only agitated him and got him to gash at me harder.
It's nothing personal really, only father's orders.
I close my eyes again, surrendering to unconsciousness as I realize that you are my weakness and that the only way to keep you is by keeping you away...