The Fifth Date

Chapter 4

Maybe a friend wouldn’t hurt, I thought.

But who was I kidding?

I had a friend when I was seven. Her name was Loisa. She was my neighbor. We played together especially during late afternoons. She would come by at our house with all of her toys. I only had one toy. Benny— my teddy bear. I never had distinct likings for toys. When my parents would buy me one, I’ll stick with it forever. I had established loyalty way before I could read. I had Benny since I was 3 years old. My mother told me to get rid of him and she’ll buy me a new one but I blatantly refused.

When Loisa and I were playing at the living room, I saw her eyeing Benny.

“Can I have your teddy?” she asked.

“You have a lot of toys, I only have one.” I pointed out.

“But I want your teddy,” she persisted.

I gave her a look. “I’ll let you play with Benny but he’s mine.”

There was a hesitant look on her face but later on, she agreed. I read Hans Christian books as she played with Benny. I never touched her toys because I never had an eye for Barbie dolls and teacups.

When Loisa got tired, she brought out a candy from her bag and shoved it down her mouth. It was the usual candy she always shared with me. I asked if she had brought another one. She shook her head and continued playing with Benny.

It was fine.

I never liked candies anyway. It was just the thought of eating the same candies with someone that makes me feel at ease-- especially if it was with Loisa. I always loved her presence. She made me feel at ease.

When I stood up from the couch, I accidentally knocked her bag over—spilling whatever was in it. She didn’t seem to notice so I hurriedly picked up her things and stuffed them back in her bag. I stopped short when I saw a small pack of candies—the same one that she had just eaten.

I was seven.

I barely knew anything.

But that pack of candies broke my heart. 

Something inside of me shattered.

And it was just after a few years later that I realized that it was trust.

That pack of candies has shattered every trust that I had in my innocent being. And it was never pieced back together. I couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone anymore. I stopped being friends with Loisa right after she stole Benny and moved out of town. Stole seemed to be a big word. Well, it was. She hid Benny inside her bag. I could tell because it made a big bulge on her small bag. I never questioned her. It was no use. I didn’t trust her and that bulge on her bag proved me right. I whispered goodbye to Benny as she walked out of our house—my tears hanging for a moment.