Gone

Song - One Shot by B.A.P (on repeat)

Every day, she wondered how she didn't realize it. She wondered how she never noticed that her best friend was slowly dying. And not because of cancer. No, it was a disease no one could cure. Not even the world's greatest doctor.

There were signs, as there always are. Subtle things that you never piece together until it's too late. Oh, how she wished she had understood when it first started. She looked back all the time, finding those moments in her memory that could have prevented it.

One of the earliest ones was a few years before. Her friend willingly handed over pasta, which they both knew was her favorite. I'm not hungry, the friend had said.

And she had passed it off as kindness when her friend gave her her lunch every day from then on. Of course, she was always hungry and had never brought her own food. She had known her friend ate a lot at home. So she didn't worry.

The second sign should have been more obvious. Her friend was yawning continuously throughout class. Too much homework last night, the friend had said.

She had known the workload was getting higher every day. It had been affecting her too. So when her friend had arrived every day with dark circles and sunken eyes, she ignored it.

More signs followed. Refusal to drink water after a vigorous volleyball game in Phys Ed. Always closing her eyes.

One particular night stuck in her memory like glue. She and her friend had been walking back from the park. Her friend was going to spend the night at her house. The night was unusually warm for March. And still, her friend had shivered, but never once admitted that she was cold.

She had removed her jacket from around her waist and wrapped it around her friend's shoulders. The shivering continued, but at a lesser intensity.

A few weeks later, they were running a warm up lap in Phys Ed. It was nothing new, and neither of them stressed about it. This time, halfway through the lap, her friend had clutched the chainlink fence and pressed her forehead against it. Are you okay? she had asked. Fine, the friend had replied. Just a little dizzy, she had said.

She had known her friend wasn't the best runner, but that was unusual. Still, she had shrugged it off as stress or something.

It wasn't long before the cutting started, though she hadn't known at first. She had seen the corner of a bandage peeking out from her friend's sleeve. What's that? she had asked. Nothing, just burned myself on the stove, her friend had replied.

She should have known something was up by then. Her friend had always told her if she had gotten hurt. Even still, she let it pass. She never saw another bandage again.

Then came the new girl. She and the new girl had become fast friends. She has started hanging out with the new girl rather than her friend. She had never noticed the change that had befallen her friend.

Gone was the hyperactive girl with the bright smile. Gone was the sparkle in her eyes. Gone were the sassy remarks and frequent smirks. Gone was her friend.

Sometime in June, she had let herself into her friend's house with the spare key. She had gone straight to her friend's room, knowing she would have been there reading. She had been met with a cruel surprise.

Her friend had been standing there in nothing but her bra and panties, frowning at herself in the mirror. Her friend had been muttering things to herself. Her friend had been replaced by a gaunt, thin girl with barely any flesh on her bones. Her eyes had been dulled by sadness and her lips had formed an eternal frown.

But that hadn't been the worst part. No, the worst part had been the dozens, no, hundreds of scars marring every inch of her skin. They had formed patterns, words. Words saying things like 'bitch' and 'ugly' and 'worthless' and 'unloved.' 'Unloved' had been everywhere, her arms, legs, stomach.

She had gasped and run to her friend. Never again, she had said as she wrapped her arms around the sack of skin and bones. Promise me, never again. I promise, the friend had said.

How was she supposed to know that promise was meant to be broken?