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The Closest Friend
As I looked at the notebook before me, I couldn't believe my eyes. Everything I had been living, my entire life, had been a complete and utter lie. How have I not realized it before? I began to think about what had led up to this moment.
It all started a few months ago on a sunny afternoon like any other. Ashley and I walked up the chipped, worn stairs to the front door of her house and walked in. Her parents are in the living room, and I say hi with a slight wave of my hand. As usual, they don’t respond to my friendly gesture. I can’t remember a single instance of them even looking in my direction. I have always just assumed they were too busy with other things to notice.
We walked into Ashley's room, and Ashley sat in the bean bag chair with a big thump.
Ashley let out a jokingly exasperated sigh, “So what did you just need to talk to me about.”
I sat down on the bed and took a deep breath.
“I think you need to see a psychiatrist,” I said quickly.
“Not this again Amy.”
“Yes, this again. I’m worried about you and I am not going to stop bringing it up until you do something.”
“I don't see why I should. There is nothing wrong with me,” Ashley responded with an irritated tone.
“I didn't say there was something wrong with you. It's just I notice that you act a little off sometimes, and I think it has come to the point where you should ask for a professional opinion that's all.”
“Why do you even care? What does it matter to you?” Ashley retorted, her face getting redder by the second.
“Because I am your best friend! That's why!”
A few moments of silence pass. “Fine,” Ashley sighed with defeat. “I will go, but only to get you off of my back!”
A wave of relief washed over me, “Thank you.”
“Now, can we please watch the movie now? I've been waiting for days.”
“Yes, but we have to make snacks first.”
“Well duh”
A few days later, Ashley went to a psychiatrist to get an opinion on the daily ticks, and happenings that I had been so nervous about. After her appointment, I met her at her house waiting to hear the news.
The psychiatrist had diagnosed her with schizophrenia and assigned her to a treatment that would not cure it but would help her with her symptoms. She was upset, but I assured her that with her treatments it will only get better from here.
After her first few treatments, I could already see a difference. A good difference. She spoke more fluently and confidently, she was more organized and more focused. She was happier. I noticed all these positive things that have come to her life, but as she continued her treatments I noticed there was something else. It started with small things like her not waving back to me in the halls at school. It slowly morphed into not responding to what I said to her. Like she heard nothing. Like she saw nothing.
It got to a point where I was being ignored completely. I had finally had enough of it and confronted her one day outside her house. At first, it's like she saw right through me. She blinked a few times, and finally looked at me in the face.
“Oh hey!” she exclaimed after she realized who she was talking to.
“I'm just going to cut to the chase, why are you ignoring me?”
“Ignoring you? What do you mean?”
“Forget it!” At this point, I was done. I walked away more frustrated than I was before. How can she not know what I mean? This all started when Ashley started to take the treatments. There must be something going on there. I decided to follow her the next day, to find a solution to why Ashley is acting the way she is.
When we got there, the assistant guided Ashley to a room. I followed and slid into the room when no one was looking. I remember thinking how strange it was that no one saw me follow them inside. I remained hidden inside the room until Ashley went to the bathroom. While she was away, I looked through what I assumed was the therapist's notebook that was on the desk, ignoring my conscience telling me not to. The names and thoughts of several patients filled my vision. Ashley’s name caught my eye and I started to read. During Ashley's first few appointments, she always mentioned me. It looks like the therapist tried to figure out who I was, but he couldn't find anything. There was no one with my name that lives here. I don’t exist?
As I looked at the notebook before me, I couldn't believe my eyes. Everything I had been living, my entire life, has been a complete and utter lie. How have I not realized before? Nobody can see me besides Ashley, my life surrounds Ashley, I'm Ashley’s imaginary friend. I can't take this anymore. I throw the notebook down and run to Ashley's house. The only place I think to go. When Ashley gets home, she lays on her bed. Not even noticing me.
Slowly, little by little, I start to fade. I am only imaginary, a mere thought created by my friend. A thought being slowly erased. After thinking, I realize that it’s okay. I’ve done everything I could, helped her get back on her feet, and helped her face her demons. I've done my duty as her best friend. As I slowly fade, I look towards her sleeping figure, and whisper, “You are the best friend I could ever ask for.”
She shuffles and rubs her eyes groggily. “Amy? That you?”
I fight the urge to cry and choke on the tears that start to flow down my cheeks. Looking into her eyes, I say “Goodbye.” As I vanished into thin air I looked into her confused eyes that now only saw empty space.
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Olivia Greaves
2506 Jennings Sioux City, IA 51104
Phone: 712.226.0333 email: 2022olivia.greaves@bishopheelan.org
May 21, 2021
Dear Poetry Editor:
I am submitting three poems entitled “Ode to Marching Band,” “Hero?,” and “Understanding,” for consideration in Teen Ink.
I currently attend Bishop Heelan High School in Sioux City Iowa and I am set to graduate in 2022. My creative writing teacher recommended I submit my manuscript for consideration in Teen Ink.
Please recycle my manuscript if it does not fit your editorial needs. I hope to hear from you soon.
Sincerely,
Olivia Greaves