Love And Lies

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
What are you supposed to do when you're best friend was just diagnosed with cancer? What are you supposed to do when you're not allowed to see her in her last living days?

Submitted: August 08, 2007

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Submitted: August 08, 2007

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Love And Lies

 

So... what am I supposed to do? I'm only fifteen and this is all just a huge, sick joke. It's all fake. It's all a lie. I'm not really sitting in this chair right now, trying to fix this ugly black shirt and wiping the smeared mascara from my eyes. I'm not doing any of that. Really. And Shelly, my sister, she's not reading the words that I wrote. She's not telling everyone how I feel right now, because that would be wrong. It would be wrong for her to read my words. Words that I thought of; words that are mine and mine alone. I never told her to read it. They told me to write it and read it. I did half.

And right now, everyone is not getting up, starting to leave. Why are they going? How can they just go? This nightmare isn't over yet. Don't they want to see her? Don't they want to make sure that this is real? Shelly isn't shaking my shoulder and telling me that we have to go. She isn't trying to hand me my paper, the one that has my thoughts on it. She isn't staring at me and she isn't walking away from me right now.

Stop. Calm down. This isn't real. Why am I getting so worried about it? I can smile right now, and it wouldn't hurt, because in a minute, Nisha is going to jump up, right out of the wooden tomb that was supposedly going to hold her for all eternity and beyond after this day and say, "Tricked you, Lani! See? I'm all better now, and we can do whatever we want. We can go to the mall and we can go to the beach, just like before. Won't that be great?" So, I'll smile and then everyone will start to laugh and then we can go and do whatever we want without that word stuck in our minds: pills. We wouldn't have to worry about the time and then the next day we would go to school and tell everyone about the joke they all played on me and we would all just laugh and everything would be forgiven.

Why am I thinking about this? Why would I be imagining that she's not here anymore? I'm a horrible friend for making something like this up. I'll never tell anyone about it. Great. I can't feel my feet. Just what I needed, right? Okay. Breathe. Do people breathe when they're daydreaming? Ah. Dumb question. Just stop. These stupid pinchy shoes that I've imagined up are making my feet fall asleep, that's all. I shrugged Shelly's hand off my shoulder, probably a bit too harsh for my liking, and walked up the few steps in front of me. No one else was up there. Why? Didn't anyone want to see Nisha? How could they just walk away like they were doing? Getting into their cars and driving away. How could they not want to check and see if this was real? Oh yeah. This wasn't real. My dream was just going to go into the climax part. Where I'll be all alone; partly. And then, I'll wake up. Why am I fretting? This is good. And now my feet aren't tingling anymore, because I've walked somewhere. That's good, right? That I can feel my feet again?

"Hi, Lani."

"Hey. Is Nisha awake?"

"Yes, she's awake. But she's working on something now, so you'll have to come back later, okay?"

"What's she even been working on? I haven't got to see her in a week? What's going on?"

"You'll see her soon enough. Now- please- leave."

I guess Mom and Shelly were in the car by now. Were they waiting for me? Maybe I should just go and catch up with them. I could turn back. I've only been standing on the first step for five minutes now, and I don't really have to check to make sure that this is real. Now really. I already know. So why did I just step up a little farther? Why did I take another step and why am I putting my hand on the side of this dreaded coffin? I can turn back. I do NOT have to do this. I haven't looked yet. My eyes haven't been pierced with this image yet. Okay. I lied. And looked. Why did I do that? I had to. But I didn't. I don't want to keep looking, I don't want to, but I can't turn my head away. Ha. Why does this feel so real, now? Why can I remember getting dressed to come here? I shouldn't. I'm not really here. I know that I am not really here because Nisha is not dead. She can't be. She might have been sick, but she promised that she wouldn't die. She promised.

I. Can't. Breathe. Why is this happening? How could she had been perfect and smiling one day and then be here- pale; peaceful- the next. She's never like that. She always had white skin; like a porcelain doll. But this was different. She was different. Cold. Okay, so I get it now. This isn't really Nisha, is it? But it is... I know Nisha. This is Nisha. But Nisha isn't dead. Didn't I go over that!? She can't be dead. Why is my mind playing this trick on me- why do I have to be here, staring at her cold, dead body- and why- why didn't I say goodbye? Okay. Maybe I lied. Maybe this is real. Maybe she is dead? No. Nevermind. That isn't going to happen- that hasn't happened. This is only a fantasy in my head.

Why did I do that? Why do I now have my hand on her cheek and why are my eyes burning? Why does she have to be so cold, when I get to be so warm? She'll be gone; in the ground, forever, I'll be here. I'll eventually move on and get new friends. But she won't be forgotten, right? I would never forget her.

Thank God. Something to break the silence. I wiped my eyes quikly and turned around. Great. Her. I don't want to talk to Nish'a mom right now. She wouldn't let me see her the last few days that she was going to be alive. I bet she knew. I bet they all knew and didn't tell me anything.

"This is yours." she said, handing me an envelope. I don't really want to read it... From Nisha? Okay. Maybe I do want to read it. I wanted to ask her about it, but she walked away. Why is everyone walking away from me? Maybe 'm supposed to face this alone. I tore open the envelope and took out the actual letter.

To me dearest friend, I give, maturity

Why does it seem like that is totally something that she would do? Alright. This is real. She is gone. I should feel sad. Why do I feel so ashamed? And that saying? 'You don't know what you've got until it's gone.' Why can no one understand that until they have truely experienced it?

I smiled. Why am I smiling? This is hardley the time to be smiling. But I still am. Looking down, I realized that I'm still wearing that necklace. That one that I got on Christmas Eve from my father. It was pure gold and had a fairy on it. So, now, I'm unlatching it and trying to get it untangled from my hair, then find myself putting it in Nisha's hand. Why do I feel as if my body is acting on its own account? Maybe she's supposed to have something to remember me by? Perhaps. But now I think that maybe, it was only a small thank you for all the love she gave me. 


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