Something Special In My Mind

I

After that day, people only showed me pity. I looked at them and wondered to myself, You could have helped her. I was probably the farthest one away from her, but I still tried to help her. Emma would have been saved if someone would have gotten to her on time. But no one dared to move a muscle. And I hate them all for it.

I spoke to no one. Not even my brother. And most definitely not to my parents. I became depressed. Having to go to therapy and all. But it didn't help. It actually made it worse, because they thought that they could help. The only way they could help would be going back in time and saving my only friend. My best friend.

They think they might be able to relate, but I know that they are only doing their jobs. It made me feel as if I was insane. But who knows, maybe I am. And if I'm not right now, I will be soon.

I became able to read people. I could tell by the expressions they wore what they were thinking. While I made my face unreadable.

I was just an empty body walking around, taking up space. I felt nothing. And I had no emotions. Except hate. I still remember how to hate.

Since I was Emma's best friend and seen the crime take place, news reporters wouldn't leave me alone. They wanted to know everything about her. Just for a weekday story, and then everyone would forget about her. I could never forget.

She haunted my dreams. Saying things like "Why didn't you help me? I thought you'd always be there for me. Isn't that what best friends are for?!? I needed you, Nad. I really did. You let me down."

So I, of course, began to lose sleep. Being too afraid of what would happen in my dreams. My dreams that had become nightmares. Nightmares of my dead friend. Some of them were just memories, making an appearance again. They made me wake up with a smile on my face, but then it immediately got replaced with a frown. Making me cry until morning, and then I would blank out my face for the entire day, not letting anyone back in like I let Emma in. Because they would go away too, willingly or not they would go away.

I had to take a couple weeks off school because when I went, I would only stare out the window and ignore everything and everyone around me. I couldn't do that now, though.

No, I would observe Every. Single. Person. Trying to see and understand what's going through their brain. And why they didn't help me save my best friend.

The guy that murdered her was high on cocaine and was just some random guy that somehow just waltzed into the school undetected and killed her. But the look on her face when she was about to die, told me she knew him from somewhere. And I'll never knew where from.

I hate everyone.