The Throne

Chapter Four: The Best Friends

My hands shake as the elevator lifts me away from my father. It's taken me ten years to realize this, but he is my worst fear, the only thing holding me back in life. Standing up to him for the first time ever has given me a sense of empowerment, like I can finally do something with my life.

I sigh as the elevator reaches my apartment, flopping face first on the couch. Did I really just say that? He holds the ambassadorship over me - for that alone he could delay my commencement for years if he wanted too! How could I do this to myself, to our continent? What have I done? A small part of me is proud, though. He's a tyrant, a dictator. His reign needs to end, and I'm proud, if not a slight bit discouraged, that I have to take him down myself to get what I want.

I get up off the sofa and head to my room, ditching my outfit. I step in the shower, running hot water through my head to clear out the memories of this morning, and this day ten years ago. My tears are indistinguishable in the water. I let the water burn my skin. I will never feel clean, truly free, from the guilt that consumes me. Years of intensive therapy still haven't honed in the idea that it's not my fault - I know it is. My mother died to protect me. How can a person live knowing that?

I leave the shower and lie on my bed. The mere thought of getting up or doing work threatens the reappearance of little food I choked down this morning. All hope is lost - there is nothing more that I can do.

I close the curtains around my bed and squint my eyes, once again wishing I could just disappear. I fall asleep within seconds, the anxiety induced by my situation weighing on me.

It couldn't have been long, minutes, maybe, before I hear the creak of the door opening and hushed giggles and footsteps towards my bed. A sigh unconsciously escapes my lips - as much as I love my best friends, I'm in no mood to deal with their abundance of energy right now. Yet I plaster on a smile, sit up, smooth out my birdsnest of hair, and go through the annual motions of pretending to be surprised by their birthday breakin of my apartment. I will admit, though, seeing them on the hardest day of my year never fails to brighten my mood. I look at each of them and smile - they're three of the four only gems in my life.

First, there's Beatrice, or Bea for short. She's the spontaneous and wild one of the group. She's always down for a party and a good time and seems to have a never ending line of guys at her beck and call. She's gorgeous, with long dark brown hair and striking light brown eyes. I don't see her as much as I do the others, since she goes to school in a different district, but when the two of us are together none of that matters. We're the closest of any of our friends, more like sisters from the way we differ and bicker, but also love each other unconditionally. She carries an exotic air around her - she's bigger than this town or even the whole state of Pink. She's never been one to sugarcoat anything - her cynicality towards the world mixed with bouts of anxiety and depression have caused her to experience the highest of highs but also the lowest of lows. She's also the brave one of the group - being a very sickly child and having her fair share of illnesses, both mental and physical, she's had over twenty surgeries in her lifetime and finally is truly healed, for the most part. We're identical while being completely different at the same time, and even though we've been through so much both on our own and together, we've always stuck by each others' sides through the entire time. She's the devil to my angel, the spontaneity to my caution, the Veronica to my Betty. She'll be my best friend for life.

Next, there's Lauren. We've been friends for the longest, but our friendship is the rockiest for sure. We're super similar, and at times it can cause problems. We both are incredibly apathetic and emotional, and adept in reading the feelings and thoughts of others. Most of the time, it works in our favor, but occasionally our similarities can cause us problems. For the most part, though, we're extremely close. We help each other out in our darkest times, of which there have been plenty. Growing up, we would fight all too frequently, but we're in a good place now. She's the one who I can tell my deepest feelings, fears, and secrets, and talk to about practically anything. She's the thoughtful one in the group, and her mere presence can project calmness to an entire room.

Last, but surely not least, there's Sadie. She's the sweet one out of the four of us. She always has a smile on her face, and is beautiful both inside and out, with bright blonde hair and shining blue eyes. She's the expert in making the rest of us happy, even if it means pushing back her own problems and worries. She's shy and brilliant, although she's hesitant to show it. She could have any boy she wanted, but she'd rather spend time with her friends and working on her YouTube channel (she's convinced she's going to become famous).

It's an odd group, the four of us. Each of us comes from a completely different background and has a different story. From the outside looking in, it wouldn't seem like four girls so different could have a friendship so strong and intimate, but we've defied the odds since our childhoods. We know each other's stories and secrets, and we've stuck together through it all. And even on a day like today, where all I want to do is lie in bed and never wake up, I am eternally grateful for my best friends.

"Cami!" Bea squeals, tackling me onto my bed and choking me in hugs as Sadie and Lauren watch, giggling as they let go of the balloons in their hands and sit down on the edge of my four-poster.

"Our baby is eighteen! Finally!" Bea peels off me and flops onto my bed, laughing her rich laugh as she does so. I'm the youngest of the four - Bea is almost 19, with Lauren and Sadie following closely after. I laugh half-heartedly, too drained to respond in any other way. I catch Lauren and Sadie glancing at each other worriedly in my peripheral.

"So, what's the plan for today, Cami?" Sadie asks, glowing smile returning as Lauren reaches out to give me my morning chai latte (best bev, periodt).

"Uh... lying in bed?" I venture hopefully, shielding my eyes as Bea opens the curtains, forcing me to face the sunlight and the real world.

"Ugh, I knew you would say that," Bea rolls her eyes, but I can tell she was hoping I would answer that way so she could spring some crazy plan on us. "So... I made plans," she says, winking at me, just as I suspected.

"Please, Bea, can we just stay in this year?" I plead, but I know it will be to no avail.

"No. Now get your flat ass out of bed before I make you," Bea responds, and the level of sass evident in her tone tells me that I should just stop arguing.

So I plaster on a smile, get out of bed, and hold in my sighs. I keep the smile as the girls swirl around me, holding up different outfits from my closet and staring at our four reflections in the mirror. I force myself to keep smiling through it all, although deep down I feel anything but happy. I read once that if you smile, even if it isn't genuine, the muscle movement triggers some chemical in your brain to be produced, which actually makes you happy. I repeat this fact to myself as I let myself be dragged out of my apartment and to our favorite restaurant for birthday brunch.

We stuff ourselves, we laugh, we joke, and we gossip, but today it feels different. No matter how hard I try to not think about this morning, or my mother, or my father's words, they swirl around in my head like sparkles in a snowglobe. Lauren notices, I can tell, because the twinkle in her laughing eyes disappears for a second, and her brow furrows slightly as her smile waveres slightly. She discreetly slides her hand on top of mine, giving me a gentle squeeze and a reassuring wink. And that's all it takes; I can't help but smile, despite everything, and her kindness and her intuitiveness and her support. In my world full of darkness, my friends really are my light.