I've been working up the nerve to write this for awhile. I want to get it off of my chest and I'm at a point in my life where I can write it without feeling weak or insecure. I don't want it critiqued for punctuation or it's literature. I simply want it out of me. This is a story birthed out of the end of a friendship. It center around branching out and reinvention. It also deals with delinquency (at some points) and using people. It's a bit bittersweet...
Dolls. Our last whole conversation revolved around my porcelain dolls. I know you always hated them. I never played with them as a child. One time you asked me why. “There not meant to be toyed with,” I told you.
You scoffed at me. “What is their purpose?”
I shrugged. “Their beauty, I guess.”
You walked over to the doll shelf that hung on my bedroom wall. They haven't moved in the eight years that we've been best friends, but they seemed to hold your interest more now. You picked up a tiny figurine in a white bonnet and lace dress. She had striking black hair, that fell like silk down her back, much like your own. I opened my seventeen magazine. We were fifteen, too old to be caring about dolls, but there was a significance to these ones. My father had given them to me. One every Christmas since I had been born. He wasn't the best man, and very far from being the best father. Yet he had been sincere when he had given me the dolls. Each one, I knew he picked out on it's own for its striking features. They were sentimental. I held on to that hope that my father had bought me these dolls out of kindness. There was no other ulterior motive, unlike everything else he did.
You examined the small doll in white lace, the one that reminded me of you, closer. “Didn't your father get you these?” You asked, making a face at her.
I was praying you'd forget about it. I shrugged, flipping the page of my magazine hoping I came off as nonchalant. “Can we just drop it, okay?”
A wide smile spread across your face. “You want me to drop her?”
I sprung off of the bed and grabbed the doll from your clutches. “Look,” I said in a stern voice. “She is porcelain, not a freaking cabbage patch. If you play with her too hard. You'll break her!” Your eyes grew wide at my sudden outburst. “Sorry,” I whispered. “Their pretty, but not resilient.”
My cell phone rang, before you could get in another word.
“Hello.” I spoke into the receiver without looking at the caller I.D.
“ Why didn't you call me?” It was Daniel. His voice was barely audible in it's harsh whisper. Your eyes narrowed, when you realized who I was speaking to. You slipped out of my bedroom. I knew I'd be in trouble if I ended the call with him right away.
“Hold on.” I pleaded with him as I set the receiver down. His voice grew louder and more insistent when I did that. He was angry and unstable, nothing had changed, nor had I for that matter. I wasn't sure what was happening. You pulled my snow boots over your feet and headed out into the backyard. I studied you for a moment. You were headed towards the horse pasture. You were terrified of horses. I thought for sure it was a plea for attention. You hated Daniel, almost as much as I did. I chalked it up to you acting out of spite.
I could hear Daniel shouting names at me, I couldn't tear my gaze away from you. Things were quickly changing between us. You were slipping away from me. I could feel it for months, although I chose to ignore it. I still bothered to go through the motions of friendship with you. I invited you over when I knew you had no reason to turn me down. We watched movies together, though I'm sure your mind was elsewhere. I laughed louder at the funny parts, trying to make up for your silence. This wasn't the you I knew. You used to be happy, carefree, and now you were just...gone.
I paced in the dinning room, peering out the sliding glass door, until you became a speck in the distance. I was so angry at you. You hardly talked to me anymore, and when you did, it was only to test me. I knew my mom would freak if she found out I let you run away.
I opened the sliding glass door. “Ruby!” I screamed, willing you to turn around. I sighed relieved when you turned around, my chest tightened when I realized it was only to flip me off. I cursed you out under my breath, and then cursed again once I remembered you took my boots with you. I ran outside barefoot into the cold snow. I was still in my flimsy pajama pants, I ran so fast that I didn't feel the cold. It was exhilarating. Stormy whinnied as I ran past him. He threw his great Persian gray body into the snow. He began to roll in it. The other horses were loose somewhere in the pasture too. Luckily for me, my strides were longer and quicker than yours. Even as I neared closer to you, you wouldn't turn around and face me. Agitated, I lunged at you. You fell into the snow, face first. I flipped you over, so you could breathe easier. I straddled your legs. The cold finally caught up with me and it became harder to breathe. I coiled my hands into fists. I knew I could never hurt you, but I wanted to hurt something. I wanted to afflict the pain of your ignorance and rejection on to someone else. “Why?” I shouted in your face.
You shook your head slowly as if the question were rhetorical. “Why will you talk to everyone else? Hell you'll even laugh and smile with everyone else, and suddenly...” I stopped to catch my breath. “Suddenly I'm a burden to you.”
“Cass.” You said as you shoved the sleeve up above my wrist. Instantly I pulled it back down, without bothering to look at the self destruction that sat on my skin in the form of shallow razor blade cuts. I pushed my thumb through the hole in my sleeve, so it wouldn't ride up again. “Call your mom, have her pick you up,” I said, my voice ragged from exertion.