Thanks for Trying

I looked up at my computer screen, the bold black font that was Kristie’s trademark flashed across the screen. “So how is Jess?” It read. I sighed and ran my hand through my hair, I was sick and tired of being asked that question, I mean, we weren’t even dating, and people had started assuming that just because we flirted a little that I was the biggest slut in the school. Ok, I’ll admit, maybe we did flirt more than a little, but did that give everyone the right to judge who I am, just because of the way I acted over a couple of days? I glanced down at my keyboard and typed back, “How should I know? I haven’t seen her since Friday.” I knew what Kristie was getting at and I refused to acknowledge it, it was so much easier just to play dumb. I waited for a response, flicking through the jumbled array of paper that littered the computer desk. I looked up at the screen again and saw that Kristie had replied. “Ok, I will rephrase the question, How was Jess” The lucid font read. My stomach lurched. So she really does think I am a slut! I thought to myself. Ok, No more nice girl. “She was alright on Friday,” I punched into the keyboard. “Why has something happened?” I smiled as I pressed enter, I was starting to enjoy this game of charades. I waited, an evil smile crossing my lips. “No” Kristie replied. I typed back, “Well what was the point of the question then?” I replied dumbly, rubbing my hands together and waiting. I knew that Kristie couldn’t ignore that hint, I knew that she only had two choices, to completely avoid the question and change the subject, or to respond to my confrontation. Knowing Kristie as well as I did, I knew she only truly had one option. To fight back. “You want to know what I really think?” She asked. I was all set to type back. “Well I am sure you are going to tell me whether I want to know or not.” But for some reason I didn’t. I closed my eyes and let my fingers find their own way across the keyboard, not even thinking about what I was typing, all I knew was that I was sick end tired of listening to what other people thought when I knew that they didn’t care less what I had to say. I slammed my pinky down on he enter key and reluctantly opened my eyes, not wanting to look at what I had typed. I stared at the screen, surprised by my own cruelty, my response read... “Actually, no, I don’t, I couldn’t care less, go and wallow in your own misery if you want to, slit your wrists for all I care, you have threatened to enough times so why don’t you just do it, oh and while you are there, put one down for me.” I ended my message with one of those stupid emoticon smiles that don’t portray shit all of what you are really feeling. I waited, not bothering to brush away the salty tear that had made its way down my cheek. I read her reply, “Fuck you bitch.
I started to write back. All of my brains were telling me to apologise and quickly, before she blocked me, but my hands refused to listen. “I’ll see you at school then honey” I sent. It was too late though, she had blocked me. I breathed a sigh of relief, I was actually glad that that last message hadn’t gotten through. What was I thinking! I had just said the very thing that I had preyed to hear ever since I turned twelve, and to someone I love. Kristie didn’t need to hear that shit, I did. I shut down the computer and lay down on the couch, willing myself to wake up from this fucked up dream. But I didn’t. This is a true story, and though it doesn’t justify what I said, it….. Oh what the hell am I getting at, it doesn’t even explain it. I don’t know why I bother. I was an idiot and I have to cop the consequences. Anyway, thanks for trying. Later,1

Becca
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