Fractured Friendship

Reads: 364  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic

I wrote this short story in Creative Writing. I was really hurting at the time, and this story means alot to me. Most of the story is made up, but there are small details in here I dropped specifically about the person I wrote this about. I suppose I got a little carried away towards the middle, but read until the end.

\"Aahhhhhhhhhgg!\" My alarm went off right into my ear and I roll off my bed onto the floor, making a loud thud. \"I'm not leaving this spot.\" I mumble, with my head peeking up from my pillow on the floor. Laying on my belly with my blankets balled up over me, I get on my phone to check my Facebook. I do this every morning. As I school through the \"Man Crush Monday\" pictures, there was a picture of Paige and Lacey together at a party this weekend, with a bunch of guys around. I bury my face into my pillow and scream in frustration. \"Dallas, you should start getting up now sweetheart!\" Dad said. I love dad so much. He never yells at me, and cares about me more than himself, it seems. He works so hard, and for hours a night. \"I am Dad!\" I said, faking a cheery tone, just for him. I look in the mirror, throw my hair up, and change into my ripped jeans and black t-shirt with Theory of a Dead Man printed on it. I grab my headphones and put them around my neck, while I sit to put on my sneakers. Lacey taught me to put my headphones around my neck. It's a great idea, really. You always have them with you that way. I stand up and throw my bag over my shoulder, knocking over my chair on accident. Running down the stairs, Dad's already gone, I noticed. Melissa was home... \"Dallas! Stop stomping, stupid! I'm trying to sleep!\" she screamed. Melissa doesn't have a job, is on disability, and claims to have depression, but it's all an act. \"Whatever.\" I slammed the door behind me. I start on my way to school, still in a state of rage from this morning. As I'm about fifteen minutes down the road, I stopped at the park where there is a beautiful trail with bright orange, red, and yellow leaves covering the ground like a thin layer of glaze on a doughnut. I sit on a swing and dig my jacket out of my bag. Slightly shivering, I plug in my headphones and play my Flyleaf album. I feel something wet hit my hand as I decided I'm not going to school. Confused, I realize it was a tear. I don't know why I was crying. I hate crying. But lately, I've been doing a lot of it. I just don't feel as happy as I used to. I feel like a piece of me is missing. Its just an empty hole. I pull up old pictures of Lacey and I. I feel like I'm torturing myself. Frustrated, I close out and walk down the trail to the bottom of a hill where there's a bench waiting for me. I lay down and rest my hands on my head, using my hands as a pillow. I open my eyes to a black sky filled with twinkling stars. I reach in my pocket to check the time on my phone, and it's 8:21pm. Dad works sixteen hour shifts and is still at work. I decide to start heading home before he finds out I didn't go to school today. Melissa is in the kitchen when I get home. She's inna dirty, stained, mint green robe with a matted bun stuck to the back of her head. She's holding her puppy, Charlie, and was waiting while her food in the microwave was cooking. \"I'm home.\" I said to Melissa. \"Yeah. Where were you at? She replied snottily, not concerned at all. \"Out.\" I say as I walk up the stairs and slam my door. I set my clothes out for the next morning. \"Good enough.\" I say to myself. As I'm walking back to the bed, I see Lacey and my old scrapbook. I stop and put my hand on it as if I were to pick it up and read it. Instead, I open the door and toss it down the stairs hitting Melissa's foot as she's walking back to her room with her TV dinner. I hear some muffled yelling as I shut the door and climb into my bed. I hear laughing over my deathly loud music, and immediately think Paige and Lacey. As I look off to my right, that's exactly what I see. \"Called it.\" I smirk and look back at my iPod to change the song. My old iPod has been locked up for years, because I forgot the code. I recently got a new one and put all my old music onto it. I guess Paige and Lacey had rode to school together. They were smiling, talking, and making hand gestures. I'm invincible on the outside, but how much longer can I pretend this doesn't kill me? That would be me with Lacey if Paige hadn't taken her from me. Or maybe if I was a better friend, she wouldn't have left me... I change the song again. It went to Boulevard of Broken Dreams. Ha! Hell no. That brings up TOO many memories. I delete it from music and slam my chair into the table as I picked up my bag and stormed out. I walk into first hour. Paige sits diagonal from me, two rows ahead to the right. We are creating two characters in class. One is our idea of a perfect person, and the other is the most ridiculous, pathetic character you can think of. Lacey sits two rows directly in front of me, next to Paige. Paige gets satisfaction out of trying to play mind games with me. She starts to go about her and Lacey's plans for this weekend out loud, occasionally glancing back at me, smirking. Paige's green eyes are so scarily intimidating, and that's why, or a big reason why most people bend to her will. Its Paige's turn to draw her character up on the board. Her idea of a \"perfect\" person surprisingly looms almost identical to her. I roll my eyes and raise my hand. \"Mrs Willis.\" I said with a heavy amount or annoyance in my voice. \"Yes Dallas?\" She asked, confused. \"I need help writing my paper for English seventh hour, and would like to hear the exact definition of conceited.\" I say, looking directly at Paige. Mrs Willis, as cute and ditzy as she was, went scrambling on her computer, determined to read me the definition, as if she didn't get the joke. \"Oh just carry on Paige!\" Mrs Willis said in the nicest voice. Paige nodded and glared at me as she turned back to the board. I look down and start to finish the drawing I was working on earlier. \"Oh Paige, they look great! Can you explain them to the class?\" Mrs Willis asked. I guess she forgot about my question. She gets really off track easily. \"Well...\" Paige starts to say. I look up. \"It looks just like me!\" I say in my head. \"What was supposed to be her \"ridiculous\" and \"pathetic\" person looks just like me! Maybe if I kill her now I can run away really fast. Death by pencil... Death by eraser... Paper cut six inches deep maybe...? Damn. I don't have many options.\" I was grasping my pencil so hard it snapped. Paige looked back, smiling, and flipped her hair. She started to talk again, but the Bell rang. \"Okay guys! Have your characters in mind for tomorrow! Have a great day!\" Mrs Willis cheerfully said. Paige and Lacey were getting their things, and I was on my breaking point. I walked down the isle to leave, fuming. BAM. I lay there on the floor for a second, processing what happened. She tripped me. I feel my nose, and surely enough, its bleeding. I flip over and stand up. I've had enough! Something inside me snapped ad I grab Paige's pink shirt collar, staining it with my blood, and start wailing on her plastic face. One hit. Two. Three. Four. I stop when Lacey starts pulling me off her, and I'm on hit seventeen. I think I might have accidentally hit Lacey somewhere in there too. Paige's lip is busted, the red blood fusing into her pink lip gloss. Her nose is far too bloody to make out, but it appears crooked, and her right eye is cut underneath, all swollen and starting to bruise already. The blood from her eye is making all the hair on her eyebrow cake together. I look down down to see a false eyelashe lying in a little puddle of blood, and the other stuck to my left fist. She's crying in pain, holding her face. All I hear is \"My nose!\" over and over. I take one last look at my masterpiece, calming my hate fire, and walk out.

I walk into the office and call Dad. I have to call twice before he picks up. “Dad, I got into a fight.” “Dallas!” He said, equally shocked and disappointed. “With who?” “Well,” I started, “I kind of beat up Paige Tyler... and possibly Lacey...” “I’m at work sweetheart. I’ll have to send Billy to pick you two up.” “DAD!” “Dallas, honey, I have no choice.” He said, apologetically. “I have to go... love you.” I hung up the phone with tears of anger starting to fill my eyes, stinging them. Billy is Lacey’s dad. Our dads are best friends. I wait on the bench outside for Billy. I’m going to be in the same car as Lacey... Great. I see her walk out of the school just as Billy pulls up. “Hey Girls!” Billy yells cheerfully. I smile awkwardly and hold my hand up, as a wave. As i approach the car and walk around the front, I notice there’s fishing gear in the front passenger seat. As my stomach sinks to the ground, I shuffle in the backseat next to Lacey. My eyes once again have that familiar stinging feeling. I miss her so much... I notice Billy’s beer up front. That’s like his casual every day drink. Looking out of the window, I think to myself that this is actually kind of nice... It’s like old times. I feel the car jolt, I look up to Billy panicking. Accidentally over-correcting the wheel from the ditch, the car swerves into the left lane. I see a semi-truck coming straight at us. As he slams on the breaks, mistaking it for the gas, I hear brief, shrill screams. As my head bounces off the headrest, I reach over Lacey’s shoulder trying to hold her back from the impact, and everything goes black... I can hear the EKG next to me over the muffled talking behind the glass window to the right of me, into the hallway. The doctor was talking to my dad, who sounded frantic. I hear the door open to my room, and the talking continued. I could hear more clearly now, and the doctor was informing Dad about my injuries. Minor head trauma, a hairline fracture to the side of my skull, a broken wrist, and gashes from the impact. That’s what i picked up from the conversation, anyways. My face feels like one swollen lump, and I still feel too weak to open my eyes. I wonder how Lacey is doing... Is she even... No. I’m not even letting that thought cross my mind. “And the girl in the other accident?” I hear my dad say. The doctor sighed and started to speak. “We have her hooked up to a ventilator. She’s in a coma.” I feel sick to my stomach. I’d scream if I could. I work up enough energy to open my eyes and whisper dad’s name. “I’ll let the nurses know she’s stabilizing” The doctor said as he leaves the room. “Can I see her?” “Sweety, you’re not in the best shape. You probably can’t even stand. It’s not a good idea.” Dad says. “How’s Billy?” “He got life flighted to Augusta. I haven’t seen him yet. I haven’t heard any information on him either...” Dad said as he sighed and looked down. “Dad, I’m fine. Go see him.” “Dallas I’m not-” “Dad. I’m fine. I’m awake now. I’ll be okay. Go see Billy. Your best friend needs you.” He hesitates for a moment and eventually raises his head. “Okay. If you’re sure you’ll be okay. There’s a flight that leaves in three hours. I’ll get a nurse to check up on you every hour or so. I love you sweetheart.” “Love you too Dad.” I say, making as close to a smile as I can. As I watch Dad gather his bags, I feel myself becoming sleepy as my eyes get heavy. It’s probably all the pain medication they have me on.. Or how much I’m taking... Or if- ...” I wake up to the room being significantly darker than it was when Dad left. I look at the clock, and it’s 9:30. I’ve been asleep for eight and a half hours! I remember Lacey... I need to see her. “Hello!” Awake now, are we?” A nurse asked me cheerfully as she walked into my room. “Yeah, I... I guess.” “We have morphine in your IV, but i need you to take this Vicodin by mouth. I’ll be back in about an hour to check up on you.” “Okay, thanks.” I wait for the nurse to leave, and put the two white pills under my pillow. I have full intentions on going to see Lacey, and I’m NOT going to fall asleep. I sit up to turn the heart monitor machine off, then pulling the sticky monitors off of me. Looking through the hallway window, I see the end of the reception desk peeking out behind the wall, to the right. I grab my IV stand and try standing, but I fall back down, ripping my IV almost out of my arm. “Ahhhgg!” Crying in pain, I hurry to get a paper towel from the despenser by the sink and press it on my arm, soaking up the blood. I sit on the end of my bed until the bleeding stops, and continue walking to go find Lacey’s room. It has to be on the left, since the end of the hall is on the right. “Okay” I tell myself. “Just don’t get caught.” Looking left and right, I’m checking every room. About seven minutes later, I see familiar feet peeking out of the covers at the end of a bed through a window, behind a closed door. It’s her. Trying to hold back my eagerness, I quietly but quickly open up the door and close it behind me softly. I sit down and look at her. All of her bruises and gashes almost hurt looking at. The beeping of the heart monitor breaking the silence make the room have an eerie, depressive feeling. There’s a strange familiarity about her, minus the injuries. She has no make-up caked on. Her hair is a mess, like it used to be. All the memories flood back like a strong tidal wave, knocking me over. Her bags of extra clothes and belongings are sitting by her bed. Someone must have brought them to her, expecting her to wake. I pull out an article of clothing, sticking out of the bag. It’s her black Old Navy jacket she always used to wear... Under it is white ear buds, shampoo, a toothbrush, and a photo album just like mine. Flipping through it, my heart sinks, and tears from my nose speckle the pages. I look up at her. At my best friend. All the hate i had for her has lifted. I reach for her hand hoping she can feel my touch, and begin to speak to her. “You were right, Lacy. People change. I know that now. Some people just don’t realize what they had in their lives before it’s gone. Before it’s too late; but look at me now. I’m here with you. Our friendship may be over in reality, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop caring. How could I? I can accept, but I can’t ever forget you.”


Submitted: August 01, 2015

© Copyright 2022 StarrMarie. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments

More True Confessions Short Stories

Other Content by StarrMarie

Short Story / True Confessions