Life isn't fair - I've known that from the beginning. Over time that saying has been drilled into to me, every single time I complained I was greeted by the expression "life isn't fair; it's better you learned that now." So I accepted this as just a law of the universe but I didn't understand why it hated me so much they sent her as my best friend.
When I first met Amanda she was like an angel: she was pretty and popular and she chose me to be her friend. As we grew up she got new friends - people who tried to push me into the shadows but she always made sure I was by her side. However it turned out she wasn't an angel but instead Satan in it's true form; slowly she took everyone I loved away from me. So subtly that I honestly believed the reasons my friends hated me because done something wrong, so who was my shoulder to cry on? The devil herself. Naively I never suspected a thing... In my eyes Amanda was perfect and I was simply inadequate so I tried to make myself a clone: I dyed my hair brown, I bought clothes that made my figure look horrendous, forcing myself to listen to terrible music so when I learned that she'd started keeping a diary and immediately bought an identical copy and spilled my secrets onto the pages.
I spent so much time obsessing over Amanda I completely threw my school work out the window with my social life revolving around this girl. So understandably when I, at a sleepover, mistakenly picked up her diary instead of mine when she nipped to the toilet, ready to scribble down the gossip she'd just told me but instead I learnt what the Amanda the supposed angel really thought of me. Pages of her perfect handwriting told me the lies she'd spinned. Knowingly ruining my life for her own personal entertainment. Taking the last ten years of my life and screwing them up for a laugh. Is it any wonder I snapped?
Walking back into the room Amanda had looked at me strangely as if she knew the thoughts circulating around in my head - expecting a condescending comment I turned to face the mirror; reflected I saw a girl with a haircut that didn't suit her face with a tonne make-up shoveled on her face. My eyes held the difference. Instead of dull and uncomprehending they gleamed with something I'd never seen before. Bitterness? Trudging over to the stairs I didn't really understand what I'd done until I saw the outcome of my actions. Lying at the bottom of three flights of stairs was Amanda's bloody and bruised body. I'd tripped her and evidently she's hit every step on the way. Trying to find a pulse it became clear there wasn't one to find. Instead of calling an ambulance a twisted smile played on my lips. Finally I was free of her godforsaken spell.
Bye
Bronny
xxx
No comments:
Post a Comment