A Requiem for Friendship

Reads: 933  | Likes: 7  | Shelves: 18  | Comments: 9

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
After I became disabled, I found out what true loneliness really meant, as my friends drifted away from me, unable to relate to the pain I was going through,

Submitted: July 02, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 02, 2017

A A A

A A A


A Requiem for Friendship


  It took me just over a year to finally come to terms with the fact that I was now disabled.  What did I expect after being thrown from the 7th floor of my best friend’s balcony.  It was a young man I had never met before, and as soon as people hear my story they always ask, “Why did he do that!?”
Why do killers kill?  They get something out of it.  Maybe I reminded him on an ex girlfriend. There were no witnesses and it was dark out.  He knew no one would see.  My friend recalls that he very calmly walked in from the balcony and informed everyone that I had jumped.  He was calm and composed.  Got in his car leaving me for dead.  He probably got some pleasure knowing he was going to bed that night having killed someone.

In the beginning my friends were kind.  It took me 3 weeks to come out of a coma and they would often come by saying things like, “When you sue him you will get so much money!”  “If you get disability you are set for life!”  And my favourite, “You are still the same person.”

None of these were true.

No lawyer wanted to take on my case.I was told that because this young man happened to be a police officer and I had no witnesses I stood no chance.  The lawyers looking at me felt sympathy when they came to the hospital.  They could have easily taken on my case knowing I would get into debt but pay them well.  Instead they were upfront and told me the truth.

As far as disability goes, I received the maximum amount.  You may be saying, “You’re friends were right about that.  You are set for life!”  Not true.  I received $1, 053 a month.  With that money I would only be able to rent a basement.  Live underground.  I had just completed University and did not have a long job history.  So I was not eligible for anything more.

And what does, “You are still the same person even mean?”  Physically I am NOT the same.  My body and face feel completely alien to me.  Falling from the 7th floor and breaking most of my body left me rather disfigured.  
I no longer think, or look at the world in the same way.  I am simply the same person in the sense that I am the same person who came out of my mother’s womb.  Otherwise I am not the same at all and never will be.  The old Cristina was thrown from the 7th floor and died.  The body was put back together with screws.  

For a year I still believed that I would return to the way I was.  I attended rehab and practised trying to walk every single day.
I was so busy I did not notice my friends begin to pull away from me.  There was no big settlement.  They may have assumed I was to lazy to try to sue him.  
In the end I had to move.  My disability money did not come close to paying for the apartment I was renting plus food and medication.
If I could do it all over again I would have notified my friends to tell them I was leaving.  But I was scared.  The man was a police officer.  What if he found out and came after me.  Stupid... but who knows.

I moved into my grandmother’s kitchen as there was no room for me to be anywhere else.  After some time I finally had collected enough money to buy a computer.  I found that my facebook account had been closed.  Someone must have tried to get in to see where I was.  Well no problem.  I remembered who my closest friends were and I would just make a new facebook account and add them. 

My biggest worry was that I would get replies back saying something along the lines of, "Where have you been!  We were so worried."  I prepared myself for this.  There was however no need for that. 

What happened next would make me spiral into a depression for several months.  Only a couple of friends responded kindly.  Others deleted my request and marked it as spam so I would be unable to add them again.  I felt like a leper.  Some went ahead and blocked me.  These were people I grew up with.  I went to school with.  They visited me at the hospital.  But now they wanted nothing to do with me.  One former friend was at least kind enough to tell me why she deleted my friend request and didn’t want to be friends, “I am now a manager at McDonald's and I have a wonderful boyfriend.  I do not want to revisit the past.”
Am I the past?  People see me as the past and just want to forget.  We used to walk home from school together every day.  Have lunch together every day.  She was my best friend.  The entire ordeal broke my heart.  I was more than grateful now that a small handful of friends did add me back.  By small handful I mean 4.  Nothing compared to the number who visited me at the hospital telling me if I sued I would be so rich.

So what was I left to do?  I lay in bed and cried.  My father noticed and asked me what had happened.  I told him how hurt I felt.  He nodded with sympathy in his eyes and simply replied, “This was God’s test Cristina.  And since your former friends turned their backs on you when you are in need and in physical and emotional pain, they failed the test.”


 


© Copyright 2017 Criss Sole. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

More Non-Fiction Short Stories

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Criss Sole

The Things He Shattered

Book / Non-Fiction

My Life After Death

Poem / Non-Fiction

In Dreams

Short Story / Non-Fiction

Popular Tags