Realisation Of Reality

Chapter 2

I take a deep breath as I make my way towards her.

It's lunch break and she's sitting in the corner as usual, and no ones with her. I sigh as bits of revolting cafeteria food are thrown into her untidy hair. The Wendy Testaburger I know would stand up for herself and throw back, harder. But she doesn't even flinch. I finally secure the seat next to her and begin picking at my tuna salad. She carries on staring at her food, and I notice her nails are bitten away.

"Wendy?"

I try to make myself sound confident and helpful, but it comes out hushed and pathetic. I glance at her awaiting some sort of answer, but she's doesn't even look up.

"Wendy!" My tone is shaper than last time as if my patience is wearing thin. I'm not used to being ignored.

"What do you want Bebe?" She whispers, still staring down at her food as if in a trance.

"Well I want to eat lunch to you, to talk with you!" I try to be reassuring. I thought she would be happy, but in fact she looked the opposite.

"I don't need charity." She stabs her fork into a piece of pasta. "Especially not from the likes of you."

I don't understand why she was being this way, I'd thought she'd be understanding, and we'd face everyone together.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

Wendy took a sharp breath, "It's supposed to mean you're a stupid bitch who only looks out for herself and you trying to help me is only some fucking way to make your image look better!" She slams her fist down on the table and I gasp, not sure how to respond. I don't need to, she continues her rant oblivious to whether I replied or not. "You didn't reach out to help me before this happened," she gestures to herself. And I must say she's a wreck. Her hair is greasy, like it hasn't been washed in days, weeks even, and there's food clumped up in her ponytail. Her clothes are crumbled, unwashed and stained, I'm pretty sure she wears the same thing all the time. She has thick black bags under her eyes and I don't even need to go into detail about her face.

"So what exactly is your deal Bebe?" Her knuckles are white and I don't think she can curl fists up any tighter at this stage without breaking the skin.

"I... Wendy don't you know what happened?" I can feel tear drops slide down my face and I shakily reach up and wipe them off with my sleeve, "I'm in the same situation as you. All we've got is each other!" My voice wobbles. God, I must sound so pathetic.

"No." She hisses through gritted teeth, "all you've got is yourself." And with a clatter of knives and forks, Wendy stands up abruptly and walks away. Leaving me in a puddle of my own tears and regret.