V DAY

My name is Wendy Kyle. It was always a never-ending, dark battle with my so-called friends Gerald and Tiffany. One moment, we were like a close second family and in a blink of an eye, we were worse enemies. Hateful words were their weapons of choice. When we would fight, they would point out my every flaw and put salt on old wounds until I was a spineless jellyfish.  I was always walking on egg shells around them and tried to do everything to keep them happy. Even when I was five, when we first met, I had to prove myself worthy to be their friend.

 When I met them I was the new girl and the youngest at school, having trouble making friends. I felt like everyone hated me and I was easily picked on. One day, our teacher Ms. Ploster left the room for a moment during art time. On my way getting my paint, I caught six-year-old sister and brother, Tiffany and Gerald drawing all over on the classroom walls. I gasped in shock and Tiffany quickly turned around to face me. She smiled mischievously and said in a fake nice tone, “Wanna help us?” She handed me a red crayon and Gerald smiled knowingly back at Tiffany. I knew that it was wrong but I thought that they were being friendly. I took the crayon and timidly drew a heart on the wall. Footsteps were approaching and I fearfully looked over my shoulder. They told me that it was no one but when I wasn’t looking, they ran away.

“Wendy,” exclaimed Ms. Ploster, “Did you do all of this?!” I looked around and I saw Gerald and Tiffany hiding in the corner.

Gerald mouthed, “Do you want to be our friends or not?” I stared at them for a second. They seemed kind but had a wicked sparkle in their eyes. I was so desperate for some friends that I made a stupid decision.

“Yes,” I told Ms. Ploster, “I did it.” I was sent to the principal’s office, was made to clean the walls, and even my mom and dad grounded me from the television for a week but I thought that Gerald and Tiffany were my friends now.

Years later in high school, they made me do more serious and dangerous things with them like shop lifting, stealing from our parents, dealing drugs, and Gerald even took me to prom for helping them rob an elderly woman. I knew that these things were wrong but I was their puppet and they pulled the strings. Even though we never got caught for these horrible things somehow, I was expected to take all of the blame for it if we did. I sometimes got the guts to say no to them but they gave me hell. Playing with my insecurities, they completely tore down my self-esteem by saying that I was nothing but shit without them. Then they would shun me, not talking to me, not even acknowledging that we were ever friends. Despite my efforts to remain strong, the loneliness would always become too overwhelming and eventually I would cave in. We would then go back to normal.  

Now I was twenty-one. I was going to college, working on a creative writing major and an art major.  Gerald and Tiffany went to school for a semester and just dropped out. Now they both worked at the general store. Since the first day of college, I was focused and constantly worked on homework. I’ve had been too busy to tag along with them and began to have the courage to say no more and more. College gave me confidence. I expected to have a big fight with them soon but surprisingly they tolerated my absence. Things seemed to be changing…well, that was until Valentine’s Day. 

It was a bitterly cold Valentine’s Day with snowflakes violently blowing in my face as I walked to their house. I was just drop off their Valentine’s Day gifts that I got them and go to the library but when I got there, it was as though they were waiting for me and they made me sit down for a while. Looking around, I noticed that we were alone. At first, we were just casually talking but then both of their faces became ominous.   

“Life has been miserable Wendy,” said Tiffany.

“Why?” I asked uncomfortably.

“Cause our freakin’ parents won’t give us extra money,” sneered Gerald, “so I was thinking that you could help us rob…”

“No,” I said firmly, standing up and not letting him finish, “I’m not robbing anyone, any place anymore. I can let borrow some money. How much do you guys need?” Before I knew what happening, Gerald slapped me across the cheek with incredible force, making me fall back.

“WATCH YOUR DAMN MOUTH,” he shouted, “WE ARE STILL YOUR FRIENDS COLLEGE GIRL AND YOU WILL DO WHAT WE SAY, GOT IT?”

Fighting back my stinging tears, I still said, “No I won’t.”

He then practically pounced on me and punched me repeatedly in the face while Tiffany was off to the side, kicking me in the ribs. I tried to get away but Gerald pinned me down. “YOU UNGRATEFUL,” they both spat at me as they beat, “WEAK, USELESS, DUMB LITTLE WITCH!” Blood was gushing excessively from my face and my whole body was in total agony but I wouldn’t let them see me cry. I wasn’t that pathetic girl anymore. Their eyes looked empty, so evil. Seeing their venomous souls, something snapped within me and amazing strength filled me.

I kneed Gerald in the groin and pushed Tiffany down with a free hand in one move. They both howled in pain. I got to my feet and ran into the kitchen.  I got a butcher knife from the block, the metal making a loud scraping sound. I wasn’t just trying to escape; now I wanted revenge. Gerald came at me and to his absolute shock, I shoved the blade into his gut. “This stops here,” I said in a low, confident tone. He stumbled back and fell onto the ground. Tiffany screamed and tried to attack me too but I punch her down. She was now weeping over her brother. He wasn’t dead, only badly injured and bleeding profusely. Without saying another word, I pulled out the blade from him and calmly washed my hands at the sink. Taking the knife with me, I was heading towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” asked Tiffany. I ignored her and kept on walking.

“Are you going to help your friend?” Tiffany asked hysterically, “Are you coming back with help?”

As I continued to walk, I sardonically said, “Don’t hold your breath.” I then walked out of their house, out into freedom and not ever knowing or caring what had become of them. I was no longer controlled.  

(c)Lena Holdman, all rights reserved 2012