Friends are angels without wings...

What makes a good friend? I’ve thought a lot about this, and I suppose a good friend is everything we hope to be ourselves. We all want to be kind, helpful, funny, caring, loyal, compassionate & someone to talk to. Friends always try to give you the better option in life, they want to make your life as easy, and as fun as it possibly can be. Friends are angels without wings.1

If friends are so amazingly great, why is it then that you can go from being closer than two peas in a pod, to being mortal enemies within a blink of the eye? It only takes a couple of words, or an awkward glance to make one of the strongest bonds between any two persons break.  Someone once said, “It takes a day to like someone, a week to know someone and a year to truly trust someone, but it only takes one stupid moment and all that you had with that person is gone”. However, if a friend is as close to you, as you are to them why would they want to hurt you? I can’t find an answer to this – maybe it’s impossible to answer, maybe there is no answer. Could it be because you as a person have changed? Or is it them?2

***3

The sun beat down on the back of my neck, and my pigtails hung bouncily at either side of my face. I clutched my mums hand as tight as my sweaty little fingers would let me, and had my thumb securely fixed in my mouth. We walked up the brown tiled steps and into the huge school building.  4

We were greeted by what seemed hundreds of other kids my ages running about, laughing singing and there parents yapping away at each other. Obviously it wasn’t hundreds of other kids, barely thirty but when your 4 years old everything seems twice the size it normally is. My mum led me to a peg, which had my name on it, even better it had a picture of a snail! 5

The snail had a green body, and a brown shell, and it was sliding along a patch of grass. The sky behind it was a vibrant yellow colour – it was a cartoon snail of course, and it always smiled at me. It was “My Mrs Snail” and it wasn’t long before we made great friends. No-one else was talking to me, so I sat and spoke to the snail, (I was 4 years old, I think I get away with the madness of it all) then just as I christened Mrs Snail, a tall thin woman wearing glasses and a long blue dress came out and smiled at us, telling us that her name was Mrs Dickie, and she was our teacher and that we could go in. 6

The room inside was amazing. It was a toy shop and a library and a kitchen, all rolled into one! It was love at first sight. There was a play house in the corner, a reading area in the opposite corner, at the far end of the room there was paints and the water & sand areas. The kitchen area was also at the top of the room, next to the musical instrument area. There was a two rows of plastic mugs hanging on the wall each with a little symbol next to it and that’s when I saw him… “Mr Snail!” I knew it straight away, he was the exact same as Mrs snail… they had to be married. I began to wonder where “baby snail” was? She (as I found out later that day) was on a book of my names, which if I ever painted a picture I got to cut out and stick to it – so Mrs Dickie knew who did it.7

I went to this place for a few weeks and was really beginning to like it. We played games at the start, and heard a story or watched T.V at the end – it was great. Also there were other people my age for me to play with. I felt so happy, proud and popular but all that was soon to be changed.8

One day I went to play in the play house. I walked in and there were other girls playing. I asked if I could join in and they said “No, it’s only for cool people!” I replied bouncily with, “I’m cool!” Being 4 years old – if you weren’t cool, you weren’t worth a second glance, it’s still the same nowadays in a sense. Cool is all relative – cool is only what you make it, and everyone had different views on what cool is than to what I thought it was. In my eyes if you were a good friend, and always polite and well-mannered you were cool – that’s what I was brought up thinking. I quickly learned I wasn’t cool, nor was I pretty or special.9

These kids kept telling me all this stuff about how I wasn’t nearly as great as they were… how I was an outsider. This wasn’t only in the nursery, this carried on though-out my whole primary school years.  I wasn’t accepted or wanted. I was hated and despised, and constantly talked about. Girls would sneer at me where-ever I went and boys would throw stuff at me, laugh at me, and yell nasty names and shout rude un-called-for comments.10

I was ugly, I was fat, I was smelly, I was a goodie-two shoes, I was thick, I only wore skirts to school, I couldn’t do PE, I was childish, I was sad and stupid, I had no friends! Everybody hated me! I was unloved and unwanted, and people wanted to kill me.11

When I was seven years old, a girl in my class had made up a bottle of mud, and red (“poisonous”) berries and stones and grubs and water, in order to make me drink it – in a hope that I would die. She did this everyday for about two weeks, and when she finally realised she gave up and went back to yelling abuse… then acting as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth in front of the teachers and parents.12

Crazy as this may seem, I started to get worse, and any little thing said about me would upset me, and by the time I was 9 years old, crying myself to sleep at night became a completely normal thing to do. By that time I would cry at school every little thing that happened, and my tears became like a security blanket. As time grew on even the teachers seemed less and less interested in what I had to say, it seemed like no-one cared. 13

I’ll admit I did get pretty desperate, and I did do some stupid stuff- stuff I really regret doing now but I felt it was the only thing I could do, or felt that I could do at the time.14

The very last day at primary school – supposedly one of the happiest most joyful occasions in my life was ruined by a group of boys. I was getting ready for the party – putting on the make-up, doing up the hair you know the usual stuff. Then one of the boys in my class caught me and shouted, “Siobhan, that’s pointless no amount of make-up or plastic surgery will ever make you nearly pretty – you ugly dog!!” I got really upset, and then he proceeded later that afternoon to tell me that I couldn’t act to save my life and I would never make it as an actress – which happened to be my dream job at the time. That whole summer I spent worrying about my looks, and myself, about what made me special, what made me unique, about what made the boys like everyone else other than me? Where did I go wrong?15

  ***16

Famous Scots poet wrote in that well-known Scots song, “Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought tae min’?” I suppose you can’t forget a person – it’s impossible. Maybe it’s wrong to forget a person, people change, they get nicer, funnier, cooler, just a better person. Or maybe it’s you who’s changed?17

***18

“Hi! I’m Siobhan, who are you?” I smiled, kept my head up to the air, and thought about making friends, meeting knew people. New teachers can be scary, and especially that guy who was talking about blank sheets of paper the same guy as the one who never smiled! A taller girl sat on my right, she looked just as scared as me – actually even worse. She wore glasses, and had shoulder-length dark hair. 19

“Hello, I’m Claire Barnsley” her voice shook with the fear in her voice.20

“ Cool, what school are you from then?” I knew from the second she answered to my over-the-top introduction we’d be great friends. I finally worked out that everything would be fine, and soon my life would be back to normal – and the tears would disappear from my pillow at night.21

           ***22

It’s a strange feeling when you lose the one you love, whether through something uncontrollable or something that you could prevent. If the circumstances are uncontrollable I suppose you just feel upset and lonely, but when u could control the fact – everything goes wrong. You feel guilt, angst, self-hatred, depression, loneliness, distress, almost every unhappy feeling you can possibly imagine. You long for that person to return to your life every day. It’s your most deepest desire, your most treasured possession, and your most wildest dream…23

***24

The rain pattered against my window, and my music blared through the speakers of my computer. I had the house to myself, the place was quiet – even with my music blaring the way it did. I had no homework, and my room had been tidied (for once), so I connected to the internet, and logged online to MSN Messenger.25

The green/blue background popped up and those little green heads circled each other as they always did. Eventually (after what it seemed a lifetime of waiting) I was logged on. A few names of my friends popped up, and as normal my best mate Carl was always the first to speak to me.26

I’d known Carl for a couple of years, but still we were really really close. He had learned to trust me, and I trust him. He meant the world to me, and I loved him with all my heart. We started talking, about nonsense. We fooled around a bit, and things got a little to far, and he said something that I was offended by. I asked what he meant, and he just said, “What I said!!” still thinking we were fooling around.27

The rain pattered against the pane harder and harder, and the wind howled through the trees outside. I just knew something awful was going to happen I never realised how bad it would actually turn out to be.28

Me and Carl’s argument went on, and eventually he blocked me, saying as he did that he would talk to me after he had cooled down. Within five minutes we were talking as if nothing ever had happened. The rain and wind had died down, - it seemed as if it would in a story. It was that lovely calm straight after a storm, but in that calm you must look at the damage the storm had made.29

“Siobhan, I really love you, you mean the world to me, I want you to be honest with me, do you love me too?” 30

The words tattooed my screen. I was shocked, I couldn’t speak. Could it really be love? No! Carl wasn’t like that. He was the kind of guy who had ten girls at the same time, but maybe, just maybe for once he was being completely honest with himself. No we were to young, I’m only 14 for goodness sake. Even worse he was 16, he wasn’t in love… he wanted to add me to his collection. Also I knew I wasn’t in love with him – I had a crush on him, and yes, I did love him to the ends of this earth, but only as a friend.31

“Carl, honey, I love you more than anything on this Earth, I’d do anything for you… but babes, I’m not in love with you.”32

My words scared the text box. and within a matter of seconds there was a reply, “ Siobhan, I thought you felt the same, now I know you don’t. I can’t talk to you again. You’ll just make me depressed.” I was blocked.33

There he was, gone. He’d left me. He came into my life, made it the best it could possibly be, then he left, making me distraught, and lonely, depressed and  hating myself. Maybe Carl was for once telling the truth, or is this just a play for me to fall into his trap?34

It’s been a week since that and I still haven’t heard from him. His friends say they haven’t heard from him and I’m really beginning to worry. I’ve never, not since I met him, went this long without hearing from him. It’s to late now, The storm has passed and the damage will have to be cleared…35

            ***36

Friends who are boys. I never would have thought when I was 7 years old that today I would have such amazing close mates – even worse some of them being boys! “Boys smell & can’t cook, or clean, or do their homework right, I don’t like boys” I had very stereotypical views when I was 7. If I said that now I would be hated, but sometimes a little childish voice comes in my head (mostly after having boy troubles of my own) saying, “Boys are stupid and the smell funny – girls are the best!” I bet boys still think the same about girls sometimes.37

Ok, I do agree still that boys do smell funny and can be a bit stupid, however boys are boys and I don’t know one girl who doesn’t like getting the attention from “that certain 5th year lad” or the “hot guy down the road”. Also I don’t know one girl who’ll let a friendship with a boy – be just that, just a friendship everything has to be something more…38

…As I write this he is sitting reading “Remembrance”  by Theresa Breslin. He is in my Regi class, and also in this English class (hope you don’t mind me stating the obvious). We’ve been mates since the p7 induction week. And I still remember the first time I took notice of him – before he had been just-another-face-in-the-crowd, he was pretty ordinary.39

It was in Technical. It was a hot Tuesday afternoon. We’d just met the overly eccentric Mr Brockett and now we finished the day with Mr Foss. There he was sawing away at the table in front of us. Mr Foss was beside us working with a group of girls who I rather suspected fancied the teacher (eugh!). He turned around, flashed a smile and started singing Linkin Park’s – In The End – my favourite song at the time. 40

“Hey! Who are you?” I smiled sweetly back at him.41

“I’m Ryan.” He said turning back to his little project.42

And that’s how it happened, that’s how all the teasing from girls about “how much of a great couple we would make”, and why we should “soooo go out” came about. That’s when I first took notice of him. I wonder what it would be like if I hadn’t taken notice of him, would have I eventually? Or would he remained another-face-in-the-crowd?43

I’m kind of glad he didn’t. No, I really am glad he actually took notice of me too, I mean I suppose I was probably pretty ordinary to him as well, but something that day made him turn around and sing to me. Yes, it was pretty random – but  hey, I love attention and Ryan (ever since) has always given me the attention I desperately crave.44

Me and Ryan. Ryan and Me. He’s like my brother. We argue over the stupidest little things but we always make up, and nine times out of ten it’s without saying sorry…we always just forget. I can’t really remember any of our arguments, but I can remember almost all the good things.45

My favourite “Ryan and Siobhan” memory is probably from back in first year. It was only our first month of knowing each other properly. It was drama – period 5 on Tuesday (Tuesday afternoons in first year was a time when I can only really remember hanging out with Ry) and we were sent to Ms Watson’s room for some reason. I guess Mr Brockett had noticed how well we got on, and we were paired together (even teachers try to get us to go out!). We were playing a game of Coincidence – when one person starts a story and the other carries it on – and somehow Ryan got a giant strawberry tart into it. 46

The strawberry tart was bigger than all the houses in Lockerbie, and was roaming the streets terrorising everyone and putting jam everywhere. We spent the whole period laughing about it. I’m even giggling about it as I type it. The best bit of the afternoon was still to come though… we had to act it out! We made total idiots of ourselves and the whole class thought we needed to go to a mental hospital and I suppose they were right. 47

You know, I can’t actually imagine life without Ryan anymore. He’s always there, just hanging around, as if waiting to cheer me up at any given moment. We don’t really talk about things the way I would with most of my best friends. I think Ryan’s to judgmental to talk to sometimes, but if something’s bothering me I’ll say so, and he’ll try and do the friendly thing but it doesn’t suit him, so he’ll just end up saying something stupid, and I can’t help but cheer up.48

Friends are amazing things, so many people make up so many quotes about them. Martin Luther King said, “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silences of our friends.” This is such a true quote. Our friends and our family make our life complete without them we would be alone in the world. We would have to face our troubles ourselves and I don’t think we would be able to do that anymore. We wouldn’t have the ability – just to live.49

I’ll leave you with the words of Benjamin Franklin who, in my opinion, said one of the best quotes in the world about friendships. “Be slow in choosing a friend, slower in changing.”50