The Life In Me, a Biography fanfic

"We all need somebody to lean on..."
-Bill Withers

It wasn't a life full of happiness for her and me. In fact, our lives still carry on with us by this passing second. I would not speak of her name once. No, never will I leek my anger, sympathy, and self pity at this mere girl. Her not knowing about my hatred – loath – towards her will never be acknowledge...at least as of now.

Starting from the beginning of time, I remembered clearly that I met her in second grade. She however, refuses and said we met during our kindergarten year...total ludicrous despite the fact that I had only one friend during that dreadful childhood.

We met during our 3rd year of Elementary school – including kindergarten. We were friends. Well, to be more specific we were the best of friends. We linked onto each other like Siamese twins... we were indeed inseparable. We lived happily during out childhood year, nothing to provoke the other to an angering state...we were...jovial.

Till that time of passing that grade, I never saw her again. She never was part of my life. I became best friends with other people and we all stuck like glue...but not strong enough to remain.

Fifth grade struck us both with lightening. We didn't have a clue who was who. Until that is, we found out that both of us were once friends before. We were reunited. She was happy; I was not. To speak in critical terms, in fact I was happy at first...until she started to manipulate me. I was her puppet, her stupid little servant beneath all her glory. What did she do exactly to anger me to write so? How would it feel, to ask her permission if I can hang out with my "former" friends as she called it? How would it feel if she was making fun of the guy that you dearly had a crush on? How would you feel if she just controlled you whole? Pretty much seems pathetic, wounded in the ego, and desperately searching for some real friend to show up and save the day.

She inflicted pain on me and forever it will. What exactly did she do? I feel as if I want to control my friends too now. I don't...never will I be like her. I want to just yell at the people who disregard my opinion. But no, never will I live up to that. Indeed she did make me think so...but I don't do it...frequently. I must be a hypocrite. Wanting to laugh at myself, but I just can't. Why?

Let me tell you this. No friend in shiny armor saved me from this mess. No friend stuck with me ever since forever. All my childhood friends – moved – all gone. The real ones...vanished. Me? I had to save myself!

I couldn't stand being a rag doll...I didn't want to live up to such stupid reputation. I didn't want to give in, that would have been infuriating. I yelled. I screamed. Everyone watched. I told her everything, everything that she did to me. Every little snotty thing she would have powered me over. She failed. She didn't have her puppet anymore.

Sixth grade passed with ease, I wasn't friends with her much and I felt proud of myself. Don't think I ended everything with her forever. She was a friend now...just someone I could chatter among when I feel bored. Look at my personality. Who do you think I got this from?

Seventh grade was when the splitters started to form on the wooden table. We started to become "best" friends again...or as she calls it. I found myself happy around her and it felt really good. She would talk behind my back and what will I do? I talked behind her back too. I am to say, pure evil on the side of revenge. One time really sparked the flames, she made me angry at her other "best" friend and we almost gotten into a fight. I, being at least a little intelligent, went up to her best friend and asked if those words she (being her) spattered were true. They weren't true at all. It was all just a scheme to make her feel happy...what a sick, sadistic girl. She apologized. Forgive and forget; that's what I always lived up to. Just then, the steps became more unstable.

Eight grade took place and it was fine. Actually we were all happy with each other. This is when another situation made me ever so...furious. I liked a boy and in fact, I think I never "loved" someone so deeply before. He was smart, but he was unorganized. He was athletic, but he was lazy. I liked him a lot...and I still do. One day, she came up to me and – knowing that I liked the guy – she just confessed her "undying" love for him. What was wrong with her? Couldn't she see that she was hurting me? Couldn't she see that I was angry? She flirted with him – in front of me. She acted as if I was the loser of the battle. Didn't she know how jealous I was? I wasn't like her. I couldn't drag guys into me just from a bounce from the breast – what she does. I couldn't flirt for anything dead. I was quiet and to atop my self wallowing pity, I was shy. I have hard times communicating with guys. Give me time and I will show them how insane and funny I could be. Give me time and I could trust them. Give me time and I will let them support me. But life doesn't give you time, instead it takes it away.

I know that the guy that I liked didn't fall for those tart-y inspirations she was trying to shove in his face. It was the 8th grade dance and I was happy to go. I danced (also with her and my friends), and had fun. Then, I saw him...I was joyous. She had a date – which was actually just a friend – with her during that time. Truth be told, she was acting quite snobby when it came to her date. When the last slow song was about to start, I remember her spitting out venom from her mouth. She spat to me, "Where is 'N' when you need him?" How could she? "N" was one of my best friends also – that is a guy – and he was just being used. Why does this situation seem so familiar?

The last song for me was wonderful however. I remembered so clearly. He asked me if I would dance the last song with him. It made me laugh to know that he wasn't a very good romantic-sport – same with me. He shouted my name among a whole crowed of people. His words were, "Rebecca!! DO YOU WANT TO DANCE WITH ME!?" I laughed and said sure. It was lovely to me.

We danced awkwardly as if we were about to do the "Tango." But I wasn't really wondering how funny it was. I was wondering why he smiled down upon my short height and looked at me with honey-filled eyes. During that time I sucked in my breath and it felt as if time had stopped. Just then I broke my eye contact away from him and never looked at him during the whole time. I was angered at myself. At least I could have looked at his chest...or some part of him, like his mouth or something...but I didn't. When the song ended I didn't want to let go. But just to show my curtsey that I indeed enjoyed it – which was much more – I gave him a fully blooming hug.

I didn't want to tell anyone, but during that time when the song was playing...I wanted to kiss him. Never have I felt so strong for someone to even lay my lips upon the other. I was still ignorant and I wanted the proper person to take it away. Heck, I haven't even kissed mouth to mouth with a boy yet. But one thing I was surely to be proud of was that she was watching the whole time...and the boy that I really liked stole my first slow dance.

Ninth grade is here. Here I am. Sitting and typing away with this little cruel friend that I have. She got jealous that my new friend just became involved in a relationship and wanting to tear it apart in many ways. She even wants me to hate my new best friend. What a loony.

We had a fight not too long ago and I was the one that should have apologized. But I didn't. Why should I? I was speaking the truth that she was a liar...and I'm sure she knows that. I didn't talk to her during the whole day of that fight. But then she called me after school and said sorry about the whole thing. I didn't wanted revenge but I got it...how strange.

Now I'm on this current situation. She confessed for the third time that she liked the boy that I still am in "love" with. I laughed and told her that she didn't have to be worried about my feelings; that I didn't mind her liking him too. Today after chorus (the only class I have now with my like-love), she came prancing to me and squealing. She then said something that made me feel so jealous..."He was staring at me the whole time!" I know who she was talking about. Just then, she left me there in the chorus room.

After that I had a lesson for chorus and all my other friends remained in the room. My other friend – now really wanting to call her my best friend – was by my side and asked me a question that broke me.

She asked me... "Aren't you at least a little mad at her?"

She knew...Kat knew that I was really torn inside and I only met her for 2 years...

Why...that someone that I only meet for 2 years is such a good friend to me? But I know why, because she wants to support a friend like me.

Her...She's selfish. We were "best friends" for a long time and she didn't even know that it would have hurt me. Didn't she know me well enough? Wasn't she supposed to be the one supporting me? Well, guess she isn't. And for that...I decided that I hate her; that I will be fake to her, as much as she is fake to me.

I just want to say...I hope she has a nice life.

- Part autobiography of Rebecca.

Dedicated to her. Why? Just to show you how your plans worked out perfectly. Are you happy now?