This is just a short storyI had to write for my english class last year... so, enjoy.
My mind was blank, totally and utterly blank. "I can't do it!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. I crumpled the paper, as if to crush the memories out of my head, in the palms of my sweaty hands. They were shaking.
"Jess," said Karen, my psychologist slowly. "Just relax. Take it one word at a time."
"I don't want to remember…I- I can't, breathe…" I replied and then finally collapsed on the floor. The last thing I saw before being thrust into the past, was Karen looking over me.
A wave of memory washed over me like an ocean. There was Marybeth, always beautiful, even when she was crying. The product of her sadness crawled slowly down her rosy cheeks and dribbled off her chin, where I caught them before they plunged down to the floor. "What's wrong?" I asked for the millionth time.
She hadn't been herself all weekend. We had left for our annual church-teens-retreat with our youth pastor and it was the end of the weekend. This was the climax of our year, but lately we had been growing distant. We hadn't even planned all the fun stuff we would do. We hadn't really talked in over three months. There was an awkwardness between us that wouldn't disappear. I couldn't figure out why though, we had known each other for seven, almost eight years. It seemed childish that it would simply end with us not talking to one another for no reason.
"Nothing!" she yelled at me and ran out of the rec. room. "Just leave me alone, Jess."
It was my turn to burst into tears. I had hoped that this weekend would give us a chance to heal our failing friendship, but it had done the exact opposite. She was hurting, I could tell that much, so I would not take no for an answer. I followed her blinded by my own tears.
It was late; midnight maybe, and as I slipped out into the crisp night air I whispered a silent prayer. Please, God, let her be alright. I found her in the corner of the empty, dark gymnasium.
"Mary?" I whispered. No answer escaped her lips. "What's wrong? Come-on… you're my best friend… You can tell me anything." I waited another moment in silence, holding her shaking body against mine.
She slipped down her pants and I saw the scars, so many of them… her handiwork. I was stunned. I knew something was wrong, but I never expected my best friend was a cutter. However, there they were. "Why?" I whispered.
She explained about all her feelings of helplessness. We talked through the night, about everything- life,how our friendship had gone wrong,God, why bad things happen… By the end of the weekend we were stronger but the silence between us was always there.
A week later I received a phone call from her mom, Marybeth had committed suicide. She had decided that God didn't have a plan for her life anymore. She had taken all the pills she could get her hands on, swallowed, lapsed into seizure and died. I didn't even listen to the rest of what Mrs. Crocker said. I just dropped the phone and ran. I ran as fast as I could until i thought my lungs would explode.
I continued running though.I ran until I hit the shallow stream I used to play in with her when we were young. I stood at the edge and fell in, letting it carry me along downstream, slowly, washing my tears away, holding me, just as Jesus was. Gentle, but firm. I felt as though, everything around me was whirling and the only way I would be able to hold on is if I let the stream take over from here. I was numb.
I suddenly snapped back to reality and sat up. Karen was surprised when I reached up, grabbed a piece of paper and pencil and started with a title; we were best friends. I was finally ready to let myself heal.