Title: Rejection

Time Written:

Idea from Sunday, May 9, 2010

Written Sunday, May 9, 2010 at 21:28

Finished Sunday, May 9, 2010 at 23:43

Warnings: Suggested Shoujo-ai. If you don't know what that means, please click the "Back" button.

Suggested rape. If you don't like the idea, please click the "Back" button.

Can you tell me how this all began?

How it all began? Well, it began years ago, that day we first met...

I can still clearly see that day, like it was yesterday. Or at least, as if it had been recorded in my mind.

It was my first day of kindergarten, and I was lonely. I stood there, in a corner of the playground, watching the other kids play tag. I had been sick for a week, so I had missed starting school with the other kids. By the time I came, they had already gotten to know each other and make friends.

So I was the loner in the group, the one who knew no one else, the one without friends.

I slowly sank to my knees, ready to start crying. It was like I did not belong, like my presence, my existence did not matter to the happy kids in front of me.

But as my head began to sink towards my knees, my arms wrapped tightly around them, a hand came into my sight.

I looked up -- and there she stood.

Like an angel had fallen from the sky.

The sun shone behind her head, like a halo surrounding her. Her face was shrouded in shadow, as if she was a divine being I had no right to gaze upon.

But then she smiled, and told me to take her hand. My name is Amy, she said. What's yours?

Jamie, I told her, and her smile grew brighter. Neh, will you play with me, Jamie?

And I could feel myself smiling as she tugged on our joined hands, following behind her like I would for several years to come.

Amy was the center of my world, when we were little. She still is.

We became the best of friends, Amy and I. There was nothing she would do that I wouldn't do as well, trailing behind her like a lost puppy. And I needed her support, especially in those younger years.

I still remember the harsh impression my parents' pre-divorce days made upon me -- it changed me, warping me into an adult-child. I would cry at night, listening to my parents arguing through the thin wall separating our bedrooms, wondering when this conflict would end. I hoped it would end soon.

But it never did.

It was the beginning of my misery.

My father eventually moved out of our house, moved far away in fact. I never saw him again.

My mother stayed in our house, stayed to take care of me, but she never said anything to me.

It was like I did not exist.

I needed comfort, someone who would notice me, take care of me. And Amy was too happy to oblige.

But I don't think she ever realized what I was going through.

I don't think she ever realized what I was going through during our early years in elementary school -- I never let her enter my house once the fighting started and even after my father left. To her, it was an accepted fact that we never went over to my house to play. And she never questioned it.

Just like how she never questioned my moody periods, when I would suddenly become quiet and refuse to participate in any activities, school-related or games with her. At the time, I thanked her inside my mind for ignoring my periods of gloominess, but now...I wonder, if she ever truly cared about me...

I thought she really cared about me, but maybe it was just my imagination....

We grew older.

As we entered middle school, Amy began to change. I was still her best friend, the person she did everything with, but I was no longer the most important thing in her life. Boys, makeup, and other girly things began to fill her life.

I followed her, like I had in the past several years. When Amy began gossiping with other girls, I gossiped too. When Amy began talking about boys in a giggly voice, I talked about boys in a giggly voice too. When Amy began flirting with boys, I flirted with boys too. When Amy began using makeup to make herself more attractive, I used makeup too. When Amy began to join the cheerleading squad, I joined the cheerleading squad too.

Amy was so happy doing these boy-centered things, but I was not. I pretended that I liked these activities too, but they did not matter as much to me as they apparently did to the other girls I hung out with. I couldn't see the point of boys -- what was so special about them that made these girls so hung up about them? -- but I continued to pretend I was like the other girls, like Amy.

They talked about who they liked among the boys in our class. To go along with them, I pretended I had a crush on the most popular boy in our class too, the 'handsome' athlete Jonah. He was funny, smart, and fun to be around, but I just wasn't interested in him.

Funny, 'cause he was interested in me.

She began to change, and we became different from each other. I refused to believe it, but it was true; it was happening before my eyes.

I don't know why he chose me out of all the girls in our class, even out of our entire school. But one day Jonah walked up to my desk and asked me out.

Everyone who heard Jonah -- and this was everyone because everyone, boys and girls, paid attention to Jonah from adoration -- oohed and aahed. Whistles of encouragement came from the boys while the girls sighed in envy, wishing they were me.

I wish they were me; then, I wouldn't have to do this. But I had to pretend I was like all the other girls in the class, so I accepted his proposal.

It was the worst mistake of my life.

The boys in the class quickly made an uproar, saying Good going Jonah! and Lucky guy -- he took the best looking gal in the class! while clapping Jonah on the back as they surrounded him. Girls surrounded me in turn, saying Lucky~ he's the cutest in the class and you caught him!

But amidst this chaotic swarm of congratulations, I noticed Amy sitting at her desk, glaring at me.

It hurt. She had been my friend for so long, but did she hate me now? I couldn't bear the thought.

I did not realize how much I needed her until she was gone. I still need her, but she's gone.

My worst fears were confirmed.

I had new friends with the girls in my class; my dating Jonah seemed to make me instantly popular with those who couldn't hold a grudge. But there were those who really liked Jonah, and those girls snubbed me. Including Amy.

I was abandoned by Amy, because I had Jonah. I was sad; I did not want him if it meant I could not have Amy as a friend. But what could I do? I could not insult the most popular guy in class -- my classmates would butcher me to preserve his honor. I only had his reputation to protect me from his rabid fangirls anyways.

So I quietly followed Jonah, like how I had followed Amy only weeks before. I conformed to his expectations, doing what a good girlfriend should do. I brought in homemade lunches to share, cuddled with him, went out on dates, and spent free time with him.

But it was still lonely.

I could not freely laugh with him -- I could barely smile. My periods of moody silences began to come back, lengthening in duration as time passed.

But we continued to date.

I hid my sadness from everyone, pretending like nothing was wrong. But everything was wrong; it had been wrong for a long time now.

At home, my mother continued to ignore me as she became more and more absorbed in her work. I did not exist beyond the clothes I wore and the food I consumed. She made sure I had the money I needed to buy groceries and a decent wardrobe, but my emotional needs were ignored. She had better things to do than to waste time taking care of me, the reminder of her failure to keep my father from running off with his mistress. Just like how Amy was treating me.

She ignored me, completely irradiated my existence from her notice. I no longer existed in her mind -- I was no longer her best friend from kindergarten.

I think I cried more over losing her friendship in those months than I did over my parents' fights. It was the sadness that made me realize it, made me realize how much I loved her.

My thoughts, my feelings for Amy constantly tormented me while I was dating Jonah. And it all climaxed the day he attempted to kiss me.

It was a regular date on a regular day. We were going to see another movie that Saturday afternoon. Something about aliens, maybe? I did not pay much attention to the movie or to Jonah, letting my mind wander back to Amy. But my attention came back abruptly when Jonah grabbed my hand, holding it beneath his.

I turned my head and looked at him. He was staring at me, his face illuminated by the flickering lights of the movie screen. Then, to my horror, he began to move closer to me, his eyes gradually closing as his lips puckered.

I wretched my hand out of his grasp and stood up, knocking my popcorn to the ground. I think I made an excuse to the bathroom before I dashed out of the movie theater, my mind in a whirl.

Why had he done that? I did not like him like that, yet he still tried to kiss me. But...if he had been Amy, I might have allowed it...maybe even enjoyed it...

Wait, was I really thinking this? I leaned against the bathroom stall, pondering. I really liked Amy, but could it really be...?

And that's when I realized that I loved Amy.

I wish I could go back now, to that time, and live it over again. I wish I could fix the mistakes I made, but I think if I relived that moment, I wouldn't be able to change anything.

Jonah soon broke up with me; I think his ego took a blow when I avoided his kiss. He never told anyone what happened, and I kept my silence as well.

Amy came back to me a week after we had broken up, all smiles and laughter again. But I think her smiles were less bright and her laughter more forced than it had been before.

Still, we were friends again, and I couldn't be happier. I enjoyed those months, now wiser from my newfound self-knowledge. I loved her, so I wanted to spend all my time with her. Yet it was also a burden, trying to hide from her that I loved her.

By that time we had entered high school, and I had learned about sexuality. Homosexuality was taboo, a thing to be hated amongst the students. They targeted all the people they suspected of homosexuality and made their lives miserable, turning against them with the ferocity of sharks attacking injured brethren.

So I hid what I was, content with staying by Amy's side.

But those days wouldn't last.

I don't see why they wouldn't leave me alone to my happiness -- they were always there, like demons trying to rip apart my happiness. And they did destroy it.

By then, I had realized that Amy had been jealous of me dating Jonah. I remembered that she had said that she liked him too during our girl talks. She had wanted him all to herself, but he wanted me, so she had been hurt and avoided me.

I resolved for it to never happen again.

But then it did happen again.

I think Destiny and Fate conspired to work against me -- it's the only explanation for why everything that could go wrong did...

There was a smart, quiet guy in our class called Zak. He never spoke much, even to other guys, but he was well-liked by everyone because he was always willing to help whenever someone was in trouble.

He was popular with the girls as the perfect, thoughtful boyfriend. Even Amy liked him.

I think that was the trouble.

They always notice me, even when I try to hide away.

She began flirting with him, just like the other girls in our class, while I stood there next to her, looking elsewhere. I had learned my lesson with Jonah and stopped flirting with boys I did not want to attract. Actually, I had stopped flirting altogether. I think I heard other boys whispering about how I was the unattainable girl, aloft and untouchable. But then again, I wasn't interested in them.

I never realized my inattention to boys would attract them rather than repel them.

But they noticed my behavior, and loved it. Boys; I will never understand them. Something about big boobs and sexy face; I had always thought I kept my face coolly disinterested. Maybe I am wrong?...

Apparently, I was. To my dismay, Zak cornered me in a hallway one day and asked me out. I refused to become his girlfriend.

Fate is always against me; was I born naturally unlucky?

I don't know how the news spread -- I don't think Zak would have said anything, and I certainly didn't -- but our entire class soon learned about the rejected confession. Amy was furious. She didn't speak to me for a week.

I thought the isolation from Amy was bad, but I did not realize how bad it would become for me.

I don't know how it fell apart, but it did. I don't know why misfortune keeps following me -- was I born under an unlucky star?

When Amy began speaking to me again and we were friends for a week, disaster struck. Apparently Zak's confession encouraged the other boys to start asking me out as well. Each day I received at least two letters asking me to meet various boys at various locations inside the school campus just so they could confess their 'love' for me and ask me out.

I ignored all of them. But Amy didn't.

Why was I born with this curse, this thing that attracts men to me, when I despise them so much?

I guess she was jealous -- I would have been too if I was straight, but I wasn't. Amy began to ignore me again as the boys flocked around me, attempting to gain my attention.

But my attention was focused on Amy, my best friend who hated me.

I began to hate the boys around me -- they had stolen my best friend, my love, from me -- and they weren't sorry at all. Granted, they didn't know what they had done, but still. They took Amy from me, and their attentions would not make up for it.

So I told them to go away. It just encouraged them further; they chased after me with new vigor. And I watched in sadness as Amy began dating a football player, knowing I had lost her.

If I had known what was going to happen, I never would have told her. But maybe it was better this way, now that I can finally try to let her go?...

But I could not, did not give up hope. Eventually Amy began to talk with me again -- maybe she was satisfied with her football boyfriend when I had none? -- and I nerved myself to tell her the truth. To tell her how I really felt.

I still remember that day. The cherry tree near the entrance to our high school was in full bloom, the petals lightly scattering in the occasional soft breeze. I had told Amy that I wanted to talk to her after cheerleading practice, under the cherry tree.

I don't think I will ever forget the sight of Amy standing under the cherry tree, the blossoms drifting in loose circular patterns around her, the wind caressing her long hair in its long fingers. She was beautiful.

I slowly walked towards her, and she turned to me, smiling in happiness to see me. But it all came to an end.

Her smile slowly slid off her face when she heard my confession, until it was replaced with a look of disgust. Her cold stare made me shiver; why was Amy, my Amy looking at me like that? She abruptly turned and stalked off.

I didn't see her again until the next afternoon.

Her hatred, her betrayal...it hurt like nothing else. I loved her so much, but when she learned the truth...why did she hate me so much?

The next morning, I looked around the classroom, but Amy wasn't there. She never showed up for any morning classes. But she was there in the afternoon, smiling and laughing as she chattered with the girls in the class.

But she never looked my way, not once during class.

I became invisible to her, but not before this last act of revenge had been performed.

Finally, when school had finished, I packed up to go to cheerleading practice. I still do not know why I stayed on the squad -- maybe I wanted to stay near Amy, even if I hated the fact that I was dressing and acting like this to satisfy the males I hated.

One by one my classmates left the room until only Amy and I remained. I was walking to the door when Amy called out my name, stopping me.

Jamie, she said. Can you come with me for a moment? I want to talk with you.

Lovesick girl that I was, I followed her, skipping practice. I followed her into the dark alley behind the gym like the puppy I have been for all these years.

There, my worst memories occurred. Amy called out, and her football boyfriend appeared. With his football friends. They grabbed me, holding me down as Amy's boyfriend tore at my clothes. I cried out to Amy, asking her to Help me, please help me Amy! Don't let them do this to me! But she just stood there, a smirk on her face.

My pleads faded when I felt him against me. I began screaming incoherent words, the pain unbearable. I remember looking at Amy, pleading with my eyes for her help. But I saw her laughing at my misery, and that's when I knew.

She never loved me. She never liked me; she had only liked the fact that I was her minion, her follower, her slave. She could do whatever she wanted and I would help her, making her succeed. I adored her, and she knew it and used it against me. She was never my friend; she had used my heartfelt confession against me, torturing me with the feel of men when all I wanted was her touch, her laughter, her smiles.

I didn't realize until after they had finished -- each player taking his turn -- and the cold of darkness had roused me that I had been crying. I lay there in that puddle, their fluids mixing with my own, crying over what I had thought I had and what I really had had.

I thought I had something special with Amy; she had been my first friend, my first love. But she had betrayed me and had taken her revenge against me for stealing all of her boys from her.

Is that your story?

Yes.

What happened afterwards?

The next day the teachers noticed I was absent. It took them two days to locate me; they had called my mother but she said she never noticed that I was gone, so they searched around town.

What happened when they finally found you?

They said I had a fever and was in a bad condition, so they took me to the hospital. The doctors there were horrified, but they treated me.

And Amy? What happened to her?

I don't know if they ever did anything to her. When I got better, the government took me from my mother's care and placed me into the state's custody. Something about how my mother wasn't a good guardian for not noticing I was missing.

What will you do now?

Work on my memories, my mind. My depression, my trauma -- they are there, but they will eventually fade. So will my memories of her.