An Excerpt Of A Book I Never Got to Write

Sun, 01/03/2016 - 14:38 -- Bavism

They didn't see that she had been lying to them until they were stuck in room 313, waiting for the doctor to come in an examine her. It was only supposed to be a check up, but she knew this was about to become more. The nurse repeated to her to please remove her clothes and get a gown on, this time more forcefully then the last 4 times she'd asked. It was like watching a slow motion picture, the smile that deemed to be so contagious slowly disappeared with each article of clothing she removed. They all tried to hide their horror but no one did a good enough job for she saw the looks on their faces. Because beneath the sweatshirt and sweatpants remained a skeleton. She looked down knowing they were probably counting her very much visible ribs, noticing how every bone protruded out a little too much to be normal, the small bruises along her pale skin from the lack of nutrients, and how her stomach even had a little bulge .They had been so content with her grades and how she'd been "staying out of trouble" and seemed so happy that they never cared enough to notice she'd been lying to them. They could've pressed only a little harder and dug a little deeper because many of her lies could've been caught if they had only tried. They hadn't even noticed that she had been slipping into her old ways. She couldn't bring herself to eat anymore, the sports events killed her social anxiety, and she started to use pills to make her feel normal. She'd spent her entire life lying, they knew that, a compulsive liar since day 1. She spent her days helping people knowing she couldn't help herself, a smile constantly spread across her face, the girl making everyone laugh, the center of attention. That was her. No one knew how weak she was, and that's how she kept it because admitting it to others was facing reality.. The truth.. And boy was she in love with denial. Because face it, it's easier when you pretend that things are okay rather than facing them. But this had happened in the past,  they believed she got better when really she just got better at hiding it. That's when the blame game began, everyone blamed themselves for not noticing, for focusing too much on her future and not her present, for putting too much stress on her academically, for not being there when she needed to talk, but me? I blamed myself the most. See that girl was my best friend of 16 years, so you bet when I saw her half naked body what a shock to see a walking skeleton rather than my happy and healthy best friend. If only... If only if only if only repeats itself in my head. If only I pushed harder, if only I saw the warning signs, if only I forced her to come get ice cream with us, If only I stayed in with her during the game. I had let her down for the second time. My best friend of 16 years wrote a note to me before driving her dad's pick up truck off the side of a bridge that evening, she told me where she was going she'd finally be happy and to never blame myself for she couldn't be helped. At the end of the letter she told me she'd love me forever and see me soon. I don't know if she was even aware of how soon we'd be seeing each other, but exactly one week later I put a bullet through my head, in hopes I'd get to see her again

This poem is about: 
Our world

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