Miscellaneous

VIII- Charmaine

Sitting down for a debrief session with Priscilla in her lunatic bedroom is such a tedious task, especially when she's itching to hear every detail. She knows for a fact that I have no true intentions of pure connection, yet she tries her best to convince me into staying. Throughout our lives, I've been the one who sits and speaks about my love life, while she listens, all giddy at the sight of someone with a somewhat successful love life.

There's nothing in the world my best friend, Priscilla wants more than being truly loved

She might be the loveliest of girls, with the prettiest of doe eyes and brightest of smiles. A girl with God-sent charisma and a way of persuasion. Yet, guys will take a look at her and ignore her angelic presence, only taking initiative when things get physical.

"Carrie, please tell me you're not going to hurt him." She holds both of my hands in hers. The innocence in my eyes breaks my heart, it almost bothers me how pure she can be. We live in a world with people crawling to eat away at us, if only she understood that love can only take you so far.

I shrug, "You know that I don't have a choice."

"You do have a choice. You always have had a choice." She says. "People have always easily liked you, Carrie, and you're using it against them."

She makes it seem as if I'm a sociopath who thrives on manipulating people into doing what I want. I'm not that malicious, at least to my extent of knowledge. It's almost an attack, the way she's stating everybody adores me when everybody knows that I always come after her. She's number one, I'm always the second. Yet, she's blinded.

Yet, I'm the bad guy.

"Priscilla, you're getting on my nerves. Can we not?"

She doesn't budge, instead getting defensive. "You sound like you're exhausted from hearing your own faults."

"My faults?"

"Yes your fault, Carrie. You're actively failing to see that there are good guys in this world, like Michael, who want you and you're taking advantage of that."

I almost frown but I catch myself before the anger seeps through my skin. "Okay, Priscilla, whatever you say."

Her eyes are fixed on me and there's a strange expression on her face. It looks like jealousy more than anything but I refuse to believe it because what kind of best friends loathe each other? That's not me and Priscilla, we grew up together and did everything together, we can't just learn to hate each other out of nowhere.

In my eyes, Priscilla and I can never be jealous of each other. Even if we were, it would make sense that I yearn for what she has, not the other way around.

"No, you don't understand, Carrie." Her voice gets really quiet. "All the guys love you. They just like me."

"That's simply not true."

She nods repeatedly, her voice getting loud. "Yes, it is. There's Michael, Cody, Noah, and so much more. They would lie down on a puddle of water for you to pass if that's what it took."

I put both hands on either cheek, smiling at her as if it will ever cure the look of missing something she's never had. "But you have me, you know? I would lie down for you on a puddle of water just for you to pass."

Finally, she breaks. Tears roll down her face like a new water source has been discovered. Her lips quiver as she tries to speak but the words refuse to slip out and it even kills her more. I wrap myself around her but no amount of hugging can give this girl the love she deserves. No amount of hugging, reassuring, money or makeup will ever take that void inside her and make it disappear once and for all.

I almost wish I could give her all the boys that surround me, just so that I never see her cry like this. "Why can't he do that instead, huh? Why exactly am I not enough?"

Fuck you, Kyle Kenneth. For breaking my best friend's heart too many times to even count.

"Because...he's that way, love." I say, "he's a bad person. A really fucked up person, and people like that never really change"

She pounds her fists on my back, crying so heavily that I know my top is going to be disgustingly wet when she's done. "Things were great for a while, you know?"

"I know. Until he messed it up again and scarred you for life."

She stops short, letting me go for a while. "He scarred me, right? Maybe that's why the other boys don't want me, he ruined it for me." Now she sounds angry at herself, both her hands tugging at her hair and targeting anywhere she can hit to hurt herself. Any kind of damage to remind her of what she's been taught she is.

"You know? He would tell me I'm the prettiest girl in the world, the apple of his eyes, the only girl he'd ever want to breathe the same air as."

I stay silent. These are all things any man could say to sway a girl, she simply doesn't understand that.

"For a while, it was true. I was the prettiest girl in his world. I was the girlfriend who attended all of his basketball games, even when we were arguing. Why couldn't he do the same for me?"

"What do you mean?"

She sobs into her hands again, rubbing her eyes furiously. "Hey, hey, no. Come here, I don't want you getting hurt."

There is no reaction from her, except sniffling and more crying. I hold her tightly like she's going to escape. She might escape, she might be gone with the wind and all I'll ever have is a jar of ashes or a second grave to now and then. Can't risk such a naive mistake like that again.

"He had a point, somehow. He would tell me girls like me have only so much love they can offer, so they get roughed up." She says, coughing a few times. I listen intently although I've heard this story multiple times, when she clears her throat and tucks her hair behind her ears, I'm almost worried.

"Every hit was a reminder that I messed up again. It was a reminder of why girls like me are so hard to love." She says, "But you know, sometimes he didn't hit or yell. He cradled me and told me really nice things that I wish he could tell me again."

"He didn't hit you once or twice, Priscilla. He did it regularly, one hit turned to two, then three, then a dozen."

She shrugs, "Maybe if I didn't piss him off so much, there would be no need to hit."

There would be no way to reverse the aftermath of their relationship, but it's not like I'll ever let her believe such things. Never will I let my best friend walk around believing the issues of a man were all her fault, never his.

"Listen to me clearly, okay? You not passing him off doesn't have anything to do with this. He got pissed at all sorts of things, everybody knows he's got problems. He made you believe you're just like him but you'll never ever be. " I say. "Not only did he hit and brainwash you, but let's not forget what he did. He didn't even ask, that guy—"

"Please. Don't say it out loud. Then it becomes even more real."

I won't pester her because nobody but her, Kyle, and I know what she saw that day. Something I would never wish on my enemy, not in a million years.

So instead, I cradle her just like he did and she holds onto me like we're fused. We rock back and forth and it's pitch quiet, at the end of the day, I've got her.

I've always got her.

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