What made me so special?
1:30 a.m.

I look back and wonder. I wonder why I stayed so long, why I was such a good friend, and what I did to deserve you.

I remember the first time that we really met. We were in class and as usual there was a rush to get things from the trays, and put other things back. We were both kneeling there, and I remember you shoving me. I wasn't having any of it and so I shoved you back. We became friends from there.

That was 8 years ago.

What happened? Well, I know, I was there. I just want to know "why?"

Do you remember giving me the friendship bracelet? Altho. I didn't really like it I wore it all the time, you meant more to me than something as petty as the colour of the band. Do you remember me asking you why you'd stopped wearing it, and your answer, "It brought me bad luck."?

You had such control over me. I couldn't see it for years. I can remember wishing middle school would end, so I could be free of you finally, "Only two more years," I would tell myself.

It wasn't just me though. You had so little respect for everyone, including your parents who worshipped you, gave you everything. You are spoilt, and you just keep on taking without a second thought.

You would invite me round, so that I could help you clear up your room. But, when I tried to read a magazine, you would always berate me, making fun. I would laugh and pretend you hadn't hurt me. What was I supposed to do?

You were so clever, weren't you. Pretending that what you did was only a bit of fun, you didn't mean it, even when the truth was obvious. You tried to take away my friends. Can you remember the argument we had in the playground where you stalked off and got half way across the play ground before realising that the other two, my friends, hadn't followed you. I was so brainwashed then that I had thought they would. You reduced me to asking people if they really like me. I felt a sense of triumph when you turned and saw me, surrounded by people who cared. You actually came back. I was crying, I couldn't breathe. I think, looking back on it, that I actually had an athsma attack. I remember one girl talking to me, asking if I was ok, but I couldn't answer, I could only gasp and cry in hysterics. Then you tried to pretend everything was alright, you came back and told people to go away, to leave me alone. Always protecting your own back.

I didn't work though. Eventually people saw through you. When I snapped one night, at Stouthall and slapped you, I found out later that everyone had been pleased about it. No one told me though. I could have done with that, but by then I was used to being an outsider, thanx to you.

Even then it was me who was forced to appologise for you. My compromise. I know you cried the whole night because you thought you had lost your "best-friend" . Did you ever really care?

I was there for you when no one turned up at your birthday party. I hugged you when you were homesick, and I sat next to you on the coach because I didn't care that you got travel sick and might throw up.

Even when those two years had passed I wasn't free of you. I started to make new friends, tried to move on. We were still in the same class, still together, but now there were other people. People who could care. A new start.

But you couldn't handel that you might loose control over me could you. You told my friends how I'd buillied you for years. I was lucky when that friend came to me and I suddenly confessed that it was you who had buillied me. All those years and I hadn't been able to face that truth. She made me realise that I was worth something, and helped me to tell my other friends who saw the truth in what I said.

Remember when I one day decided not to sit with you? You said, "Luckybug. You've changed, and I don't like it." I gave u a shrug and sat down.

We were still together right upto the end, until you decided to go to another college after just two weeks at mine. I was glad of the release. Things had gotten different between us. We moved in different circles, and you had taken under your wing one of my closet friends who even now is struggling to deal with how fake you are. She was one of the lucky ones you bestowed your friendship on. She just didn't work out what you were really like. Everyone else managed though. You didn't have many real friends the last time I saw you. It's just you and your psycho boyfriend. You don't even go to college anymore, you dropped out and you have a job selling kitchenware. You'll be stuck in some crappy job for the rest of your life, unless mummy or daddy gives you more handouts. They did get you a car afterall. I've heard you drive like an old granny. I'm tempted to feel sorry for you, but I won't. What did you do to deserve my sympathy? You ruined my life, and I'm still trying to get over you completly.

I have you to thank for many things. My posture, I haven't stood up straight for so many years. Why did you want to crush me so competely? I am wary of people, am slow to trust, and I watch out for people like you. There must be more out there.

But, I also have you to thank for building my character. I've survived. Did you hear me? "Take a look at me now. There's just an empty space. There's nothing left here to remind me. Just a memory of your face."

One day, when I graduate, I will come and find you, working in your crappy job, and I will start a conversation with you and maybe you will realise that I am not someone to look down on. The looser of our friendship was you,

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