It is a story about my friends, my friendship and…myself.
We were in high school when the six of us met. We were always together as if nothing could break our bond. Other students were jealous of our friendship. They envied us.
One day we went to one of our friend’s house. It was a sudden plan. So she was not aware of this. But we were stupid enough to visit there without any notice. We saw her getting abused by her own parents- both verbally and physically. How many days had been like this for her? Why could we never know about it? We didn’t know what to do. After 3 years of friendship it was the first time we got to know about her being abused. We felt sorry, we felt pity, we were sad and …… we were tamed.
Not long after that incident, we got disconnected with her. Her parents also moved her and we didn’t even get the opportunity to say that we were sorry and that we were with her. After some months later we got to hear that that friend of us died. Putting it more appropriately, she committed suicide. We cried, begged for reasons of her death. We heard nothing but criticism.
Gradually we forgot about her. Actually, we decided to forget her. We needed to move forward in our lives.
Day by day, we were getting far from each other without noticing. And after some time, we even stopped contacting each other. Without noticing we started to move on and on and never felt the necessity to look back and be nostalgic about the days we used to be together. This was the life I was leading until now.
Now I am on a bed of a hospital. Counting my days and thinking about stuffs. I don’t know how my other friends are doing. I don’t know how many of them are alive. I just keep thinking. Sometimes I think about my dead friend. How ignorant I was that I could not see through her smile! We were always like that. We were laughing together, playing together, and even were punished together. We were always together. We did everything we can do together but becoming each others consolations. We only thought how beautiful our smiles were but could not see through each other. We thought our lives were good enough. Never thought one of us could be in pain. We could not become each others shelter. We did not even know the meaning of each others smiles, tears or lies. We just kept going with the flow. I still regret the day she committed suicide. And also the day all of us departed. I feel guilty. Is it same for my friends also?
And that’s why I am eagerly waiting for my death. The time for repentance passed long ago. Now only death can end this guiltiness and stop these questions from popping up. But I keep wondering endlessly….Is friendship like this?