She’s the one that sits in the back of the room, her eyes playfully darting to things others don’t pay attention to. With her eyes still raised, she hides on her dim computer screen the things that her tongue can’t say. The words flow through her long fingers and out into the world, softly touching thousands of lives of people she hasn’t even met. She means so much to so many, especially me. She doesn’t think she’s pretty, but she’s beautiful. She might be absolutely crazy, and is likely to be the one you see on TV because she tried to kidnap a celebrity, but beneath her spotted skin and through those piercing blue eyes, there lies a girl who can brighten your day with one word (*cough* frolic *cough*).
But no one else will talk with me late into the blackened night when I’m crying so much that I can hardly see my smudged keyboard. No one else knows the secrets I keep, and cares truly. One thing I know for sure is that I would not be here without her. I would have been buried long ago, along with the future I held. When I met her four years ago, I never would have thought that she was the one who would be here to hold me up as I tumble down. We were just little kids at recess, our hair let down as we ran and played. We were so naïve and unaware of this world. But that changed for both of us. And I never could have dreamt of anyone better to go through this with. Her story is so raw and real. She has overcome what I have yet to. I admire her strength and courage. She scrambles around, pulling others out of their inevitable pit of madness while I see that she is sinking herself. Those days when her personality doesn’t shine are when she has helped the most people, wearing down her spirit with other’s grindstones of painful stories.
She will write triumphed novels, she will do great things (and hopefully let me write the screenplay for her first bestseller…), and she will leave her mark on this world; not like she hasn’t already. But that mark will turn into a crack which will be seen by all for generations to come. Not one other person means so much to me, and I doubt anyone else ever will. We get mad at each other, we fight sometimes, but she can turn the conversation around with a simple expression (*cough* frolic *cough*) that makes us both double over in shared laughter. We keep thousands of memories of boys, fandoms, movies, sandals, CDs, and mouths full of whipped cream, including the Piggly Wiggly brand.
Sometimes something perfect happens and you wonder how something even as strong as fate could have made this materialize. But even in an infinite amount of space, on this one planet, on this one continent, in this one little town named after a godforsaken pump, I got to know you. The bestest friend I ever could have asked for.
Mariana Helena Ritchie.
Remember that name, because one day it will touch every corner of this world.
