The Warrior Is a Child
Ellen Morgan sent you a message.
A strangled sound came from the back of my throat. With my eyes closed, I took a deep breath and let it all out with one swoosh. I admit I have been avoiding her. Yes, I took the coward's way out but it was not like I had any better choice than this. Since when did I let her have such control over me? I could still remember the drama and "BS" I went through because of her. Sleepless nights and numerous guilt trips were just a few given results. She was practically running my life and I felt really strangled, there was no room to breathe. I could feel that proverbial wall closing in on me.
Where were you all this time?
Finally remembered me huh?
Having fun out there and already forgot your old friend Ellen?
I felt blood draining out of my face. My hands shook. In the soft silence of my room, I could hear my heart pounding like drums. It was deafening. At that very moment, I concentrated on everything in my room: the tick tock of the clock, soft lulling music coming from my speakers, the sunlight peeking behind the blinds, anything at all besides the computer screen and the horrible person sending me messages.
How is your new school?
I bet you have a lot of new friends.
What did I do to deserve this? I should've known this would happen before I decided to be her friend. What a big mistake it was.
I hope you don't forget me here.
I couldn't form a coherent thought in my head. It was all a jumbled mess of flashbacks and painful memories that were best forgotten. I started typing up a reply to her but lost the courage. Nevertheless, how can someone lose something she never even had in the first place? I groaned into my pale, quivering hands, wishing I was as tough as I look.
I hope you hadn't replaced me yet. After all, I was your best friend right?
But why were you avoiding me?
Was it because you have a new life now and just decided to forget me?
No you wouldn't do that.
Not to me anyway because you do know the consequences, right?
I sat back on my chair; nerves taut, shoulders stiff. I caught the sight of me on the mirror that hung crookedly on the wall closest to me. My medium length black hair fell limp around my makeup less face. My eyes were reflecting a series of emotions ranging from sadness to pain mixed with guilt, shock and frustration. I closed them shut but was assaulted with memories of the nasty fights and insults Ellen caused because I said something that she didn't particularly like or if went against her on anything at all. My eyes immediately shot open; I didn't want to remember anymore. I didn't want to remember how pathetic she made me feel. Judging by the way she easily manipulated me, I was – still am – an incompetent fool.
And also, don't tell me you've forgotten every memory we had.
"Weak. You are a weak, pathetic, sorry excuse of a human being. Man up. It was just Ellen. Fight back you lapdog!" My reflection sneered at me.
I stood up and walked over to the offending mirror with shaky legs.
"What?" The reflection mockingly asked. "Couldn't hold it together anymore?"
I drew my fist back and hit the worthless image in the mirror. I was too numb to notice the pain coming from my bloody and bruised hands, too numb to care for the shards of glass on the carpeted floor.
"SHUT UP!" I screamed. In this point of time, I completely lost control of myself. This was all her fault. She made me so weak, so pitiful. A sob escaped my lips. Tears and more tears were running down my face and onto the carpeted floor, mixing with a small pool of blood my hands had created. Often times, my frustration turned into anger, inwards, I wouldn't let it be directed outwards. Until now, that is.
I thought you said you wouldn't forget me.
You broke it.
"Let me go, just let me go. Please." I whispered hoarsely. "No more, no more. I didn't want this." She knew I was powerless against her. She sensed it even before I met her. At first, she was the best friend everybody wanted. But that didn't last very long. And then there came the emotional abuse.
I sank back on my knees and then proceeded to curl up into a distressed ball; my desire for self- preservation taking over. More sobs. Her words were echoing in my head over and over again without mercy. When would this anguish end? Do I need to self destruct even more? Was it not enough for her?
Every time I would see her name or anything that remotely reminds me of her, I recall pain, endless pain and regret. I let out a frustrated wail filled with hurt and despair. I was mentally suffocating myself. I tried inserting in a positive thought in my head, but to no avail. The corrupted memories of lost innocence and identity were swallowing me whole inside. There was no escaping it. I closed my tired eyes, gave out a painful sigh and finally let the dark abyss take over. She won.
In the sanctuary of my room, I was allowed to have my breakdown. Tomorrow when the sun rises, such weakness - at the same time a luxury - would not be allowed. I couldn't bear to let people see me like this. Tomorrow, my false facade of being strong would be back, walls would be soaring high, tall and proud around me. An act of indifference would be delivered like an award winning actress. Aside from my battered hands which I would easily lie about, people wouldn't know any better, not even my own parents. I would be the picture of a teen with polished confidence and playfulness that has no care for the world. I would just be another girl with the perfect family and friends in that perfect little world. Untouchable like nothing could hurt me; this message sent with the way I held myself. It's all lies though, pure deception like no other; my life in a nutshell.
"Arra, you were so bad. You gave that guy a run for his money! I wish I could make people back off like you could. Feisty!" A friend told me the next day. I simply sent her a strained smile and thought: if only you knew.
'Cause deep inside this armour, the warrior is a child.
AN: My first first first original story!
Reviews are welcome :D