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A Good Friend Like Bob

“Yeah. Shit yeah.”

I glance at my best friend, Amelia, as she swings back and forth on one of the swings of the elementary school. Being in highschool, Amelia and I had decided to just hang out on the kid swings for shits.

“That’s what I tell everyone, but they don’t care.”

I toe the ground, wondering what conversation Amelia is having with her mind today. She is schizophrenic. Her closest friend — closer than me, even — is a person named “Bob” — or, in other words, her conscience. The little voice in her head.

“No,” Amelia frowns, wrinkling her nose, “I don’t think they would.”

A pause.

“You... think so?”

Another pause. I exhale, getting bored with listening to my best friend talk to herself while she ignores me.

“M-maybe. Will you be there with me?”

I frown while she nods, a slow smile creeping onto her lips. She slips off the swing and focuses on me as if seeing me there for the first time.

“I have to go home,” she says, “Dinner will be ready soon.”

I nod and, like usual, I walk her home. I walk beside her while she starts talking to me about how she isn’t looking forward to meeting the guests her mother is having over for dinner. We reach her house within five minutes. I’m relieved that she hadn’t talked to “Bob” throughout the whole walk.

“I’ll see you,” I say to her, waving as I steps away. She glances over her shoulder at me, smiles, and flips her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Bob! Shh,” she giggles, then slips in the front door of her house. I stand there, staring at the door for a few minutes before turning around.

I faintly wonder how much longer it will be until she is placed in a mental institution for good. She’s been in and out of them for years now. She is, at the moment, sane enough to live a somewhat normal life.

I head home.

---

Two days pass. I sit in school, glancing at the clock. It’s five after nine — where is Amelia? She’s never late. I glance at the empty seat beside me.

I have no other friends other than Amelia. I’m all alone.

Two classes float by. Amelia is still gone. I begin to feel scared — she would have called me to tell me she wasn’t coming. Had they taken her to the institution? Had they came back? Did she have some sort of freak out which made her parents send her back to the institution?

The day ends. I just narrowly slide through it without panicking. I practically race home, into my four story high mansion, passed my mother, passed my sister; I snatch up the phone and hastily dial Amelia’s number.

There is no pick up. I wait and wait, but no one answers.

I stare at the phone, confused and scared. I put it down, feeling stiff, and then I make a move to head into the kitchen to ask my mom for a ride to Amelia’s. However, before I can reach the doorframe, a figure steps in my way. He’s dressed in a white t-shirt and light blue cargoes. He has a friendly smile on his face.

“Hello, Larissa,” he says in a friendly tone. I stop and stare at him.

“Who are you?” I ask.

“I guess I’m Bob,” he tells me, and then smiles calmly at my confused expression.

“Bob...” I trail off, then reluctantly ask, “Amelia’s Bob?”

Bob flinches and rigidly replies, “No, it’s the other way around.”

I don’t say anything; I’m confused beyond belief. After a few moments of simply staring at each other, I say, “Wait... you’re not real. You’re just a part of her imagination.”

“I was. I freed her from me,” he said, flicking a strand of hair out of his eyes.

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to,” he says sweetly, then walks to me and places his hands on my shoulders. We stare at each other before he pulls me into a hug and caresses my hair. “All you need to do is trust me. Let’s be friends, Larissa. You need a friend.”

I try to step back, but he holds me tighter and kisses my forehead.

“Friends,” he insists, and as if a spell has been cast upon me, I impassively lean into his hold and let myself relax.

---

A week later, I sit in the kitchen, poking at the peas on my plate.

“How was school?” my mother asks my sister and I.

“Boring as usual,” my sister shrugs.

I just shrug also, then glance at Bob, who is sharing my seat (and so I’m forced to sit half-way on it and half way off). He smiles back at me. The others cannot see him, but I know he is there. I lean against him slightly and he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Why are you sitting like that?” my mother asks me. I say nothing and give her a content smile.

“What’s wrong with you lately?” my sister looks at me like I’m stupid while she pokes at some peas on her plate with a fork.

“I’m complete,” I say softly; comfortably, and close my eyes when I feel Bob chuckle silently.

“She’s gone mad,” my sister sighs and looks away from me. “Ever since... Amelia...”

“Shh,” my mom hisses.

I ignore them. I still don’t know where Amelia is, but for some odd reason, I could care less. All I care about is Bob. Bob, my best friend, who understands everything about me.

I grin to myself and continue eating. As soon as I’m done, Bob suggests we go up to my room to talk. He has something very important to tell me.

I follow him all the way upstairs, to the top floor, and into my room, where I close and lock the door.

“Yes?” I ask him. He motions for me to sit down on my bed. I do so, and he sits beside me, brushing his lip against my forehead affectionately.

“I love you,” he says, “You’re my best friend.”

I smile, flushing slightly.

“Do you love me?” he asks, a twinge of hope laced in his words.

“Yeah,” I admit, “Shit yeah.” I lean against him, and he brings me into a hug.

“Everyone says you’re going mad,” he tells me, “But you aren’t. They are the ones going mad.”

I look down at his chest and frown. “That’s what I tell everyone, but they don’t care,” I say, frustrated.

“They don’t care?” he echoes, then raises an eyebrow, “So... if they don’t care what you say... do you think they’d care if you weren’t around at all?”

I hesitate and look down at his torso. “No. I don’t think they would.”

“Neither to I,” he whispers, pushing some hair out of my face, “I think you should do something drastic, Larissa. Perhaps... doing something intense to slap them across the face and make them regret never caring.”

I blink. “You think so?”

He nods and gestures towards the window.

“M-maybe,” I whisper, my gaze slipping to the window for only a second before resetting on Bob. “Will you be there with me?”

He stands up and takes my hand. He nods. I smile slowly, then raise beside him. He pulls me into a hug, and for the first time, kisses me fully on the lips. It’s just a sign of our friendship, I know. He leads me towards the window, and I open it.

I had never felt so happy.

---

A/N: yeah mannn. If you didn’t get what happened to Amelia, just scroll back up to the start of the chapter and you may get your memory refreshed. And yes, Larissa is doing the obvious. What else would she do with a window after being told to do something drastic? She isn’t feeding the birds, y’know. - Hate to Hope