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gabbes

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This is....  a memory.  an effigy.  this is for my best and most loved, my  only.  my friend.

She was my day, my laughter.  She was my night, my sadness.  everyday.  She was there.  and now.  its been so long....

Many years ago, when we were still juniors at school.  still children.  she and where inseprerable.  We ate together.  Played together.  Shared thoughts like brother and sister.  

Then she was taken...  they where wonderful days.  Bright days.  had been the start of a new phase in both our lives.  We were changing, and we both knew it.  We even talked about it.  lol.  talked so much.  so very much.

It happened after school really.  that day, marked like so many others by her and nothing else.  she was why it mattered.  anyway, school had ended for the day, school children at the bus stop, older students owning ride's, other's walking.  

We had infact decided to walk that day.  It wasnt something we did often, but we'd done it before.  Our parents trusted us to be home on time, and the bus ride was only a couple of streets down.  

We talked.  We always talked, she was so smart.  I learned so much just by listening.  Just from her wonderful, fertile mind.  So we walked.  and talked.  We stoped at the corner store amd i baught her some sweets.  She shared.  She always did.  

Halfway home, we turned down a side street.  I always looked down this street, but I never did venture to explore it.  What would be the point?   Was it her that led us here?  or was it me?  I suppose it makes all the difference sometimes.  sometimes when our mind, our heart doesnt want to forget. 

The sweets were almost gone, and the day was rather hot out of doors.  I started to sweat before long, longing for that bus we decided to miss.  doesnt matter.  We talked for longer when we walked.  

Suddenly I heard a noise.  It sounded harsh, scary.  I was young, and it really wasnt my business.  She looked.  Turned her head and looked.  Then another sound.  To be honest I had never heard this sound before.  And yet, I knew it intimately.  How could I not?  It was a scream.  But somehow, it wasnt.  

It was strangled somehow.  Half heard, half devined by natural intuition.  I stopped.  A loud "smack" escaped the house.  This house in the lane i never quite dared to venture down.  A woman was in trouble.  I knew it, and so did my friend. We looked at each other, i knew what she was thinking, I saw it in her eyes.  Saw it better in her movements.  She wanted to help.

My best friend was going to walk up to that house and do something.  and she almost did.  But the door to the house opened first.  

I saw her.  Jesus.  I saw this woman for just a second and i couldnt believe it.  Saw the blood.  Fuck....  was that her face?  and then HE emerged. had a lump of wood in his hand that I guess must have come from a heavy chair or stool.  I dare not repeat what he said.  not even now.  Christ, why did I have to come here. 

I grabbed her bag and pulled her.  She was paralised.  wasnt going to move.  But I pulled her harder and she gave, slowly at first, then quicker as i ran harder.  I risked a glace back.  I had to.  

Who would have thought this psycho bastard would follow us? shit, he still has that lump of wood.  The terrified young woman besdie me suddenly tripped.  She cried out and i stopped.  He was gaining but something hampered his efforts.  My god!  is that a knife in his leg?

She wouldnt move!  We had to move!  There was no time, I picked her up and carried her in my arms.. She was heavy.  So very heavy, but i wasnt going to leave her behind.  I ran and ran, finding the way home somehow, not knowing what i was doing in my terror.  And then, I was there, safe, my best friend panting in my arms.  We were at my home and i was so tired.  Utterly spent i sunk to the grass of the front lawn, her hands lifting to cling to my neck.

She wasnt going to let go.  But thats ok.  Her touch somehow melted the fear in my mind.  I took her inside and managed to miss my parents.  I put her in my room and when to the kitchen.  A note on the counter informed me that they were out.  Lucky.  

Going back to thje room, i noticed a wild and scared look still clinging in my friends eyes.  she was shaking.  her hair and face now slick with sweat, her hands twisting her pleated skirt into untidy knots. 

She needed a shower and a drink.  something cool maybe.  I got her some fruit juice my mother had made the night before, and i sugested she get cleaned up before my parents get home.  I was greeted with nothing greater that a flick of her hand, a nervous reaction perhaps.  i took the orange juice and put it on the night stand.  Just as my hand left the cup, I felt her body hit mine, my hand making contact once more with the cup of juice, spilling its contents which sprayed my bedroom wall.  I was too young perhaps to understand what she needed.  Perhaps, perhaps not.  

Still the sweat of fear covered her.  I noticed that her deoderant was now unable to cope.  She needed a shower, and she wasnt going to walk there herself.  i tried to rise and her legs locked around my waist, arms constricting the flow of my breath, slowly biting into my neck.  I carried her to the bathroom.  She didnt move.  Opening the shower door, I turned on the water.  She clung to me tighter still.  Then in my ear, a whisper so low, i hardly heard it over the hiss of the water.  "Dont leave me".

And so, what can i say?  I made sure she showered and got her some clothes to wear.  Afterwards I cleaned up the orange juice and called her parents.  Her mother answered the phone and I asked her if her daughter would be able to stay the night.  Before she could reply, I informed her that she was already showered, and rather tired from a day of sport.  "we can handle it"  

"Can I talk to her?", "sure, hold on a sec"  I made my way back to the bedroom.  There she lay in my bed under the covers, sleeping so softly and quietly like a blessed angel.

After I Informed her mother of the situation, she gave me consent for her daughter to stay the night.  Afterall, tomorrow was the weekend.

The next day, her mother came, picked her up and said goodbye.  For the most part I think my friend was back to her old self.  The weekend passed without incident, though I recieved no word of what she had been through.  No talk.  I didnt worry.

On monday, I met her at the gate.  We talked a little, but she was understandably quiet.  Lunchtime came around and we sat and ate.  Still we sat in relative silence.  I left her to relieve myself.  having both finished our luch, she must have wondered off.  

When I came back, I couldnt find her.  The bell rang and still no sign.  I told the teacher she should have been here, in class.  The teacher reassured me that she's probably just running a litle late.  

School was over for the day.  I hadnt seen her.  What could possibly of happened.  Then it struck me.  She must have called home.  maybe she was sick, or still a little messed up from what had happened to us not two day ago.  

I caught the bus home.  Debating about whether or not to call her parents, i decided it would probably be best if I waited until tomorrow.  Then at around 6 the phone rang.  My mother answered it.  She began to look worried and I knew something was wrong.  She began to ask me questions about "her".  My best friend.  She'd gone missing and her parents hadnt seen her.  

I recapitulated the events of the day, not excluding my efforts to arouse the teachers susspicions about her dissapearance.  The police were called.  They queried my mother as to whether they could ask me some questions and she accepted willingly, divining no lie in my words.  

But I couldnt tell them what had happened just days ago.  my mind wouldnt allow it.  Fear made my blood run cold when I though of it.  It was easier to block out than i thought it would be.

The next day, They found a body.  I would never have guessed, Never dreamed that the worst of all nightmares coud have come true, could have somehow forced itself out of the creation of her mind.  Surely she had dredded this.  But to tell the truth, it had never crossed my mind.

I when back to that house.  the things they said he did to her.  I couldnt bear it.  The things....  

So I when back.  he wasnt home.  There was a for sale sign on the landing ready to me hammered in.  he wasnt here.