Did this one for two contests, simultaneously. I was inspired by the number of teens who talk about cutting as if it's THE answer. May you all know the power of choice.
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ESSENCE OF GISELLA
I watched the blood flow down my arm. It was a shallow cut, barely a scratch, but it made me feel closer to my best friend. Gisella rested in death now, and how I wished I was with her. I never understood what made her decide to be my friend. I was nothing; she was everything.
Memories flowed with the blood: the first time we met. She was having her birthday party at the park. I had run to the park to escape the yelling that was a normal part of my home life. Gisella came up to me as I sat on the swing, slowly moving back and forth. I was lonely and watching her with envy in every stolen glance.
Gisella had invited me, grubby me, to her sparkly party. She asked my name, then grabbed my hand with a laugh. She sat me down among her friends. When one of them commented that I had no present for her birthday, Gisella had smiled so happily and announced that I had given her the most important gift, my friendship.
After that, she could have asked anything of me; but that isn't who Gisella was. Tea parties and sleep-overs, playtime at the park; those were the things Gisella asked of me, things that brought joy in my life, and gave me meaning. Suddenly I wasn't defined by all those names that were thrown at me in the house full of screaming. I was defined, for the most part, by Gisella's friendship.
Another small slice, another memory sliding down my arm.
Middle school, and clubs. When my parents refused to allow me to do anything, Gisella confronted them and confounded them with her cheerful personality. She needed me to help her, she said. I was important. Her mom could drive us both, it didn't cost anything. She smiled away their complaints and pushed their excuses out of the way with the bubbles that popped out of her personality. I found myself in the chess club of all places, as if I was smart enough. Gisella thought I was. I began to believe it too when I began to win an occasional game. She caused me to be more than I was.
I paused, the grungy-ness of my room contrasting sharply with the memories of Gisella's room. Her room had been filled with bright colors and sunshine, and when Gisella stood in the middle of it, I could picture a living rainbow. I, on the other hand...
I moved the blade slowly, carefully, thoughtfully. A river in miniature. I needed this, the chance to be with Gisella once more, the chance to feel important, the need to feel loved. Memories flowed.
High school. My parents had mellowed with the years, in their way; where Gisella was concerned, at least. Dad would move a drunken arm, motioning her up the stairs to my room while my mom sat in the kitchen with her hidden stash. Gisella was always quick to haul me away from there. School projects, she told my parents, school activities. Would they have been so complacent in their zoned-out stupors if they knew those activities included ball games and dances? I made it a point not to ask. Gisella didn't just let me borrow the occasional dress, she let me shower in hot water, use her scented shampoos. No one had ocassion to laugh at the poor stinking bum, Gisella made sure that never happened.
Closet space for outfits bought just for me, clothes laundered properly. Meals cooked while she giggled over my attempt to narrate a cooking show. Seasonings I never knew existed. I learned how to do the work that went hand in hand with that good and clean life. Gone now, like Gisella.
Another study of that delightful piece of steel in my hand. I could live here forever. I moved to demolish that delicate dam that kept those memories from flowing. Imagine my surprise when a familiar hand stopped me.
'If those are bits of me, living inside of you, why do you want to watch them slide away down the drain? Did our friendship mean that little to you?'
I looked into her sad face. I denied the very thought that our friendship was nothing.
"Our friendship is everything," I told her desperately, "it's all I had." I could not bear the thought of her not knowing that!
She gave me a gentle, sad smile. 'Why do you speak of our friendship in the past tense? Are we not still friends?'
I nodded yes with such vigor that I was surprised my head didn't fall off.
'Then let that part of me that flows in your veins be expressed in the life you live. You have to do it for both of us now, you know.' Her smile changed into that impish grin I knew so well.
I don't know how long I sat there, staring blankly at a blade that no longer had meaning. The vision of Gisella was gone, but I knew she never would be, not while the essence of what it meant to be Gisella lived inside me.
I looked around the squalor that was my room. Why had I never thought of it before? I pulled the curtains open wide to let the sunshine in. The choice is mine; it always had been but I had never realized it. I decided I would start with some soap and a bucket of water. I could get a part-time job to buy some paint. I could. I could do anything with my best friend at my side.
I gave the world my first of many smile, ones that used to be reserved solely for Gisella.
