Because why should I wait?
"Julia, what are you doing?" Ming-Ming stood in the doorway, her heart suddenly racing a thousand, no a million miles an hour with panic. Again? This was happening again? Operating on something other than conscious thought - did she even have any of that left? - she plunged forwards and knocked the glass containing water and pills from her best friend's hand. Julia's eyes were red-rimmed and dead of emotion but there was a surprising amount of venom in her voice as she snarled,
"Fuck off, Mimi!"
"Let me guess, 'I don't understand?'" Her voice shook with fury and shock, and barely held-back tears. Resignation echoed in her mind; had she really thought for a second that the first time she had witnessed this would be the last?
"No," Julia replied simply and reached for the innocent little cardboard boxes again. "Good-bye."
Slap!
Ming-Ming didn't realise what she'd done until she saw the perfect red hand mark complete with shining red lines of blood for her sharp nails form on Julia's cheek like a sponge soaking up water. Julia stared at her, stunned, not even bothering to put a hand up to her cheek as the younger girl drew in a deep breath and said in a broken voice,
"How – dare - you." Ming-Ming swallowed; there was no turning back now, not from the rage that was rising within her, ready to engulf her in a sea of red anger and fear, blind fear. "How dare you just do this, just sit here and hole yourself up and drug yourself to death and be so selfish?
Do I really matter that little to you that when your mind calls all you can manage is "Good-bye"?
"Did you think at all? Parents, me, Julia, did you think of anyone? Or was it all me, me, me, I'm the one drowning in a sea of my own making!"
"You think I wanted this?" Julia stood now, face rapidly blotching with her own anger.
"I think it looks pretty much like it, don't you?"
"Oh, you stupid bitch, you understand nothing! Nothing! You're too wrapped up in your own little perfect world, convinced that a hug can fix anything! Well, it can't! You can't fix me! Nothing can fucking fix me, so stop trying!"
"I … have to … try." Tears were coming fast now. "You don't get it either. How much I hate this. I always hope, and it always gets ruined."
"Then fuck off!" Before Ming-Ming could react, Julia had grabbed the box again and shaken five pills into her hand. Ming-Ming flung herself at her in a crude parody of a rugby tackle, knocking Julia off balance.
Then they were fighting like grown men in a bar, rolling around on the floor and Julia was so much stronger but Ming-Ming played dirty, played desperate, grabbed hold of hair, jabbed for the throat and eyes and fought her way into a position behind Julia where she could pin her arms with her own and wrap her legs around Julia's waist and hold on and hold on, and never let go.
"I hate you!" she screamed.
I love you, I hate what you've done, I can't stand you like this, and I can't stand life without you and I miss the you that laughs with me. Where did you go? Why won't you come back?
"If you hate me that much, go!" Julia said bitterly.
"No!
"Why not? You've said it, I'm a hopeless case."
"Because you're my best friend and I love you so much, and I cannot lose you. Ok? I'm as selfish as you are and I'm never going to let you go." A pause. "That's only theoretically, of course. I'm going to have to let go of you eventually, my spine's being crushed between you and the floor." Julia gave a sour laugh, recognising Ming-Ming's well-known ability to get distracted by … just about anything, really.
"Go on, then." She wriggled her shoulders. "Get off." Ming-Ming made an uncertain noise. "Don't be stupid, Mimi. Off." Mimi let go and scrambled upright. Quickly, she gathered up all the boxes she could find; one, two, three, a fourth unopened. Clutching them tightly in her hands, she met Julia's pitying gaze defiantly.
"I'm sure you've got more. I know this wouldn't stop you. I'm sure nothing could stop you." She left the room, and Julia heard the clattering of her heels down the corridor as she sat in the floor and tried to remember what she had ever done to deserve such determined, misguided, pigheaded loyalty. Ten, fifteen seconds later, Ming-Ming was back. "They're all gone – just for now, no doubt." Her brown eyes sparkled as she came back into room. "I brought you double chocolate ice-cream!" She held out a spoon and the biggest tub of ice-cream that Julia had seen in a long while. "I'm not going to stay, unless by some miracle you admit you want me to. So, enjoy." She placed them on the floor in front of Julia, then knelt and hugged her friend as tightly as she could. Julia could feel her shivering; the only sign she was giving by now that told Julia how upset she was. Guilt started to gnaw at her like a worm in her stomach.
"Sorry," she said automatically.
"Nu-uh, not necessary." Ming-Ming poked her and tightened the hug. "I know it, you know it. That'll do. And I'm sorry too."
"For what?" Julia was genuinely puzzled.
"For being me, I suppose."
"Never stop doing that."
--
Ming-Ming pulled herself back to reality by twisting the skin on her arm between her nails until it bled.
There was no point in dwelling on what could have been. What might have happened if she had read the signs – what signs? Even Julia probably didn't see any fucking signs – if she had been quicker, more understanding … more anything. Maybe then she wouldn't be sitting in her room, wondering what was happening at the funeral she had been unable to bring herself to go to.
Tch, as if it would even have gone like that! As if she would even have been able to make a difference. Julia was right; she was nothing more than a stupid, idealistic, naive little girl who could never hope to understand or help the black side of the girl she had loved more than anyone else in her life.
It had made her laugh when directly after Julia's death people had blamed it on her, thinking they were in a relationship. As if. Honestly. Had people never heard of platonic love?
She had loved Julia and now she was dead. That was what hurt most of all; knowing that Julia had died believing that she was alone, that in the end, their friendship hadn't mattered enough, that she had failed somehow in her efforts to make Julia happy, that Julia hadn't cared enough about her, or Queen for that matter, for second thoughts. That she had failed in the endless task of keeping Julia's head above the blackness.
Now though, now she envied Julia – even poor Queen, who looked set to follow in her friend's footsteps. They had escaped, got out, while she was left stubbornly clinging to a life that she no longer wanted to lead. She wasn't sure whether it was cowardice keeping her alive, or the knowledge that she didn't want anyone close to her to go through what she was going through.
It wasn't a life; it was an existence, floating from day to day under a black cloud that choked her spirit. On a good day, she would smile and laugh and forget for a while, go to bed hoping for an even better day. On a bad day, she would go to bed hoping to die in her sleep, knowing that life couldn't get any better, only further degrees of worse.
Life was killing her and this was good, because Julia was dead and she could never ever be fixed.
Forever and ever, we said. Ha. No more laughing for us.
Ah, angst is good.
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