Book Of Narratives

Crazy Mazy

Crazy Mazy.

That's what they call her.

Just for having a friend who no one sees, who no one knows, who no one understands.

The class of year 4 students, all picks up a fully sharpened school pencil each, and answers the questions that are written hugely on the chalkboard, in their school books. They chat loudly and animatedly, all excited. It should be as simple as that, right?

Yet it's not.

Because at the back corner of the room sits a girl, who even though is the same age as them, is nothing like the kids in her class; who are boisterous and lively and all eager to learn, to show their teacher how well they are doing in maths.

She is not like them.

Instead, she is bored; her chin in her hand and her soft cheeked face holding an expression of utter boredom, and dismally, her plump lips turn into a small frown, displaying her reluctance to learn and focus.

She doesn't care anymore, to be perfectly honest.

Mazy stares at the empty and barren seat next to hers on the desk, and a tear slowly slides down her cheek. She weeps silently, sobbing and hiccuping. She attempts to not voice her pain, not wanting another reason for her bubbly classmates to pick on her.

She misses her best friend.

She blinks, her light green and blue eyes, the colour of beautifully translucent and calming tropical waters, and she spots the almost transparent figure of a little girl, sat in the chair, a bright smile on her face. No evidence of the last few months tragedy could be seen on her.

Mazy's frown forms into a great grin, reflecting that of her best friends smile. Beaming. She is glad to see her friend again, and even though it may not be fully there; with no flesh, no skin, and no bones, she is still glad. Happy even.

Chloe has come again.

Oh, how she wishes her friend was still alive, and not a figment of her imagination. She wishes that no one would call her crazy for talking to herself, for they saw no ghost, no ghost of which was her best friend, before the...

Her smile suddenly slips from her face, her lips trembling and a sob trying to escape her mouth. She feels guilty for what happened just a mere few months ago, even though it wasn't her fault. But this experience has changed her, she has grown up considerably, now knowing to not whine and distract others when she shouldn't.

She was in the back of her dad's car, after he had picked her up from school, as well as picking up Chloe, as her mum was at work. Both Mazy and Chloe were lively and boisterously loud, singing from the CD of Disney songs playing in the car, and her dad was turning a corner.  Mazy had wanted ice cream, yet her dad said no. She kept whining and whining, demanding for ice cream, and her dad looked off the road and into the rear view mirror.

Wrong move.

He didn't see the light turning red, nor the car in front stopping.

In that instant, no one could've known until too late. The car that came to a screeching halt, Mazy's dads car plunged into the car in front, glass shattered all over and bits of metal and plastic ripped off of both cars, flying everywhere. They were determined to lodge themselves in something, or in this case, someone.

Mazy was lucky. She had a few cuts and a hand fracture. Her dad, not as lucky, but still made it out okay, with a small concussion, bleeding nose, and broken elbow, as well as minor cuts and bruises.

Chloe, however.

She came out the worst, as she was in the middle seat in the back, and flew straight through the windshield on impact, blood covering her body, having a huge gash on her head, glass lodged in her skin, both legs broken, a hip fracture: she was a mess, almost unrecognisable.

She was immediately put in an induced coma as soon as she was rushed to the hospital, but the doctors didn't think she would make it, with the amount of injuries she sustained, but they still tried.

They were right.

The next few days, Chloe died when her heart stopped beating. She had given up. It was too much for her small and fragile body to take. It was impossible to get out of.

Mazy could never forgive herself.

And as she stands at the grave of her best friend, after school had finished that day, she feels all the suppressed feelings and emotions crash down on her like a tonne of bricks, suffocating her.

Pain, suffering, loss, anger, grief, sadness, emptiness.

It takes over everything inside of her, crushing her, reminding her of the time seeing the bloodied mess of her dead friend, just after the accident.

A horrible catastrophe, they called it. A tragic incident.

But to Mazy, it was her fault. No matter how many times her dad, her family, her Chloe's mother tells her it wasn't her fault, she will never believe them.

She bares the guilt and shame for the murder of her bestest and only friend ever.

She is guilty, and there is nothing one can do to change her mind.

Not even the ghost of her best friend who stands silently next to her.

Her friend who she cares deeply for, and who she will miss forever...