Song-Inspired Stories

Old Friends by Jasmine Thompson

          ⚠️TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️
THIS IS A VENT, IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO MENTIONS OF SELF HARM, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS OR.  DEPRESSION
           🚫 DO NOT PROCEED.🚫

  it's been almost a full month now.

  A full month since the call that ruined my life.

  We were camping, I was playing with the younger kids in the site, entertaining them as the adults talked about whatever plans we had.

  My sibling suddenly pulled out their phone and went quiet as they listened to the voicemail. I glanced over, confused on why they stopped talking, but I was dragged back to sword(stick) fighting with the young boy and girl in front of me.

  "Ezra, you might want to come hear this." By then, my parents and other siblings had heard the voicemail. They didn't look too thrilled.

  I excused myself, having the kids spar amongst themselves for the time being. I walked over, narrowly avoiding the smoke plume from the firepit. I sat down next to my sibling, glancing at their phone screen to see who the voicemail was from.

  My best friend! I hadn't heard from them since we made a house call to the cops since their parents were fighting about them again.

  I grabbed the phone and held it to my ear as I played the message. My breath immediately hitched when I realized this wasn't my friend's voice.

  It was their mom. And she sounded like the world just stopped turning.

  "Hello Ezzie's family, or Ezzie himself. This is "friend's name"'s mom. We had a talk with the police, since you called them to make sure they were safe. But the talk had some outcomes that you won't really be happy with. "Friend" is to have no social media or even a phone for that matter until schoolwork is done. Because of recent events, that will mean no communication with friends. I'm sorry you had to find out this way. It wasn't your fault, the police and us decided it was best. Bye."

  I didn't realize I was crying until I felt the hot liquid hit my lap. My mouth was open slightly, throat dry in fear.

  One of the kids came over to me and gave me a hug, the other joining in. I hugged them absentmindedly, eyes staring off into the forest surrounding us.

  No one spoke for the next few minutes. No one could comfort me during this. I slowly stood up and ushered the kids off to their parents who stood around me. I walked to a slightly secluded part of the campsite, sitting in the hammock we had set up.

  I sat there until the sun set, and until the fire went out that night. I didn't speak, but the camp buzzed with life around me. I ignored all attempts at getting me to interact.

  The next day I was back to normal, offering to take the kids down to the river to try fishing again. I acted as if nothing happened. Like I hadn't just lost my best friend due to my own ignorant anxiety. The rest of the camping trip went fine.

   The families that were with us left, the kids didn't want to leave without me. They liked me too much. I smiled weakly as the cars drove away. We moved sites since our stay had expired.

  The next site was in a different campground all together with no area for the hammock. I just sat on a fallen log in the middle of an small valley behind our tent.

  I would take pictures of the plants, my best friend loved when I took pictures of the plants of the places I went. Best way to remember a place.

  I just kept taking pictures. Thoughts danced through my head of the times we spent together, all the randomness, and the arguments we've had.

  It'd only been around 8 months since we met. That fateful day where I could have died if they didn't save me.