Always

Thank you, God, for this bed that I sleep in and this roof over my head. Thank you for the clothes on my back and for the food on the table. Thank you so much for my friends and family members who I love so much. Thank you for my health, as well as, the health of my friends and family. Thank you for our safety and I would like to ask that you continue to keep us safe. God, thank for me, for who I am. Thank you for this path that you have set me on and please, I would like to ask, that you help keep me on it. And, God, thank you so much for my best friend,...1

Do you remember? Do you recall the dark surrounding us as we clasped our hands together and prayed. The dark is something to fear, isn't it? Children fear it, even adults fear it. But we didn't fear it. As long as we had God and eachother we were safe. All was good, all was right.2

Some things, I suppose, are meant to backfire.3

You may not remember back then. Back when nothing was broken or filthy. But I remember quite well. I remember the prayers we whispered up to the ceiling as the darkness prowled around us. But we were safe in your nice, snug bed.4

That was when our tie rested strong and unbroken, back when we were friends. Back when we both had faith in God, when we both still believed that he even existed. Back when you were Christian and I was Catholic. Back when we couldn't even point out the differences between Christianity and Catholicism, it didn't matter anyway. We both had faith in the same God and we both clasped our pale hands together and whispered our thanks and desires to Him.5

It was back then that we were clueless and small. We underestimated the size of the world and, as all children do, thought that we would be the ones that would someday hold it in our hands. But we had no idea how very big the world was and how, as we grew, the world grew along with us. And we couldn't possibly have known of the hardships or the crises that populated around the earth with that giant sheild infront of our faces. I was perfectly fine with the sheild standing sturdy and upright infront of me. I had no longing to cross it or see what was behind it, I just wasn't too curious.6

But you, oh, you were curious. And sneaky, as well. You slipped right under the protection of the sheild, desiring to see the world because you couldn't be able to hold the world without knowing everything that inhabited it. So you stepped outside of our guarded boundaries, leaving me worried and alone. 7

I was never made to be alone. I was never made to be leader, I was made to be a follower. So, small and shivering, I slipped underneath and followed you into the world. We never knew it could be so big and you ran off right away to explore it while I, nervous and anxious, scampered into a safer area.8

You didn't come back for a while and when you did you were different, both physically and mentally. You're golden hair now dull and chopped short. The chocolatey brown eyes I adored so much before were now only remaints of the exotic structure you owned previously, now empty and cold. Black surrounded your eyes in carefully drawn circles and I couldn't help but stare at them because you had never worn make up before, you had never needed it.9

You came back with a shell around you and I tried to push it away to see you but after one glimpse of you I knew you weren't real. You weren't you anymore. You came back as someone else, only you had the same wrong face.10

But something that you carefully covered, something I couldn't see, were the bleeding wrists beneath your black clothing.11

You and I had grown up with stories being screamed in our ears about drugs. We learned what they can do to you, what they can do to your friends and family. And I listened to them, because I was always cautious... for I was always frightened. And I still am. Frightened of everything.12

So when I was told that assortments of smokes had been filling your lungs I was far beyond frightened. And I knew I had to confront you but I couldn't do it alone. So I brought a trusted friend who proved that she was no help anyway. During the whole confrontation she sobbed her eyes out while I sat there and stared. I was so beyond shock I wasn't even shocked, if that even makes sense, which it doesn't.13

"Don't worry about me." You told me and the sobbing girl beside me. "I won't get hooked, I won't get addicted, I promise. It's not that big of a deal. I'll be totally fine." And then you smiled. In that smile I saw a reflection of your old self and that distracted me. I let the confrontation fall at that and we left. I may have been a fool but I wasn't that stupid: I knew you would get addicted.14

And sure enough... you proved me right.15

It seemed like you couldn't stop talking about it. How it tasted, how it smelled, how much you wanted it that very moment. And you brought your hand up towards your nose and, closing your eyes, inhaled deeply. You told me how good it smelled, how much you wanted some right then, and asked me if I wanted to sniff your hand. I drew back, repulsed. But you didn't notice. The only thing you were aware of was the odor soaking your hands, your craving, and my voice in your ears offering you help. 16

I voiced my opinion so many times. "You shouldn't do that. Really your shouldn't. Listen to me! You could get sick! Your body could reject it and you could die! The moment your body rejects it your heart..."17

"Shut the fuck up!" You would screamed at me. And then a couple sentances of cuss words aimed directly at me came spewing from your lips. And all I could do was stand there and stare because you had never ever spoken to me like that, to anyone like that actually. You barely swore, you barely even got mad. And you had never gotten mad at me before, we'd always been the best of friends. But that all seemed different now. 18

"I fucking hate you! You're so fucking annoying! I hate this! I hate what I'm feeling! And cutting didn't help, not one bit! But this makes me feel better, I don't have to feel any pain anymore. I know what this will do to me, I know it's bad! And you know what? I DON'T FUCKING CARE! So get out of here bitch, I'm done with you. I'm so done." And then you started to walk away.19

"But... wait..." I said, attempting to follow.20

But you turned around to face me and screamed in my face. "NO! I'M DONE!GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" And then you walked away.21

I didn't know what to do then. The room wouldn't stop spinning and the tears were trying to penetrate what little defense I had left. My throat seemed to swell and my breaths became shorter. And I had nothing to do besides find comfort in the other girl who had sobbed for you... the little comfort she actually gave me, if any at all.22

Only a few weeks later I was sick at home. Maybe someone was watching over me that day. Because that day I didn't go to school. And that day was one of the many days that you tried to sell drugs at school. And that day was the day the police came in with their dogs and their guns and they decorated you with silver bracelets. I'm sure you looked very pretty as you were led away from the school and shoved into the back of a car.23

When I heard about this I was expecting you to be expelled. But no. Only 10 days suspension. Wow, that does a whole lot. So I got 10 days where I didn't have to hide from you. But the 11th day was hell. The day you came back all you could do was stare at me with those piercing, blackened eyes and smile. I think I was the only one who saw the yellowing, wolf-like teeth behind the smile. 24

It's funny how words can upset you so much, isn't it?25

I was at my breaking point that day. I was dreading the day and hating myself for the stress on my shoulders. Last period seemed to be a glaring contest between you and no one else. All you could do was stare at me with narrow eyes. And after school ended the name calling and hatred spewing started, as well as the online messages. All of them being something I would not like to repeat.26

That day my breaking point completely gave away and I fell down into an inescapable, black void. 27

I remember, on the way home that day, I tested something. I dragged my fingernails across the underside of my wrists. I tried it out, despite the protests of my other friends. Friends who I barely knew, for you were my only friend, my only true friend. So I smiled as red lines appeared, smiling back at me.28

And I liked it. No, I loved it.29

I loved the cold fingers that ran up my spine as I dragged the shard of glass across my skin, staring at my own reflection in it and hating what I saw. I had never hated what was in the mirror before, never. 30

I loved the crimson. It became me favorite color, my favorite taste, my favorite smell, my favorite everything. And it was all I could think about. 31

But the damage was showing on my wrists. And the damage shown on my legs as well. So I gratefully broke my reflection in the shard of mirror and moved to a needle. And, laying my hand down palm up and fingers outspread, I pulled the needle that I held above my head down and into my fingertips. Over and over and over and over. The pain was sharp and distracting. And the blood, oh, the blood, soaked my hands and dripped down my scarred wrists. 32

It was really disturbing, now that I think about it. I remember looking in the mirror, my eyes brushing over the blonde hair and tear-filled blue eyes, thinking how innocent I looked with a cover over my wounds. And then my eyes caught the crimson smothering my hands. And I screamed at my internal agony as the hatred for my ugly reflection brimmed. I dragged my bloodied hands across the mirror, smothering the image, the pale tear stained face and the red eyes. Suffocating my reflection.33

So you see, your addiction just led to another addiction. My addiction to blood and anger. And that led to the screaming and crying of my family members.34

One day I decided to open my eyes.35

And what I saw caused me much more pain than the internal agony had been causing me.36

My family needed me. I had ignored their cries for much too long. 37

The black void I had fallen into was extremly hard to climb out of. And I couldn't have climed out if it hadn't been for the life line my friends had thrown down to me and then hauled me up. 38

I threw away my bloodied drawings and my pain-causing tools. I lost my lust for blood but sometimes it still calls me back. It's a never ending stuggle that's part of me, it will always be there.39

All that's left of my addiction are scars, on the inside and outside.40

I have no clue what's left of your addiction. I don't even know if you're over it. But I hope that one day you will.41

I know that I will never have my best friend again, she died long ago. 42

And all I have left are memories of her. Memories I hold close to me, near and dear. And I don't plan on losing them anytime soon.43

Amanda, sometimes a pray for you. 44

Do you pray for me anymore? 45

... my best friend, Jamie. We'll be friends forever. Thank you for our friendship, God. And help us to mantain this friendship. Keep us safe, God. Don't allow us to be hurt by anything, protect us. Amen."46

"Amen." I echoed and smiled.47

"Friends forver?" You turned to me and asked with wide, dark eyes.48

My smile widened, " Always ,".49