ANYA

I got angry. I don’t usually get angry but that night I did. And I wish more than anything I didn’t. Because when my parents were sleeping I sneaked out. I didn’t tell anyone about my plans. Not even my best friend who always knew every move I made. I don’t know why I did it. I can’t give you a reason. I was angry, upset, tired of feeling caged by my parents. Tired of feeling like I didn’t have control. And mostly I felt like I just wanted to feel. It’s a strange thing to say. But for most of my life I always felt like my feelings were controlled. Everything I felt my parents got to decide what it was. When I was happy it was because they wanted me to be. When I was excited it was because they decided it for me. And for once I decided that I was angry. And I decided that I wanted to feel something that I never felt. Problem was I was searching for it in the wrong place. 

Closeness. Comfort. Happiness. 

Love. 

You can’t fake feelings. And you can’t stop feelings. And those were hard lessons I was yet to learn. 

The fight was about a scholarship. I’d received one to study overseas. I was so excited when I got the letter. This was my big break. Studying what I wanted to all along. I knew I just recently got a job, just like my parents wanted me to – always believing that you should earn your keep as soon as possible – but I knew that this opportunity would never come again and I hoped my parents would understand that. But they didn’t. Instead they told me quite frankly no. I pleaded and begged. They didn’t listen. I started yelling. They ignored me. I went up to my room, frustrated and there I stayed until it was dark and they were already asleep. 

I don’t know when exactly or how I decided on it but the next thing I knew I took the bus down into the city and I found myself in a nightclub. 

A recent high school graduate visiting her first night club. Alone. 

It was thrilling, but also terrifying. 

And then I met him. He was a stranger. I wouldn’t have been able to recognize him out of a crowd. He wasn’t particularly outstanding, or beautiful. But I was like someone that hadn’t eaten in a long while. I was hungry for love and affection. 

It went passed really quickly but every moment hurt. Not because it was my first time. But because I knew it was wrong. I knew this was not how I imagined my first time to be. I wanted it to be with someone I loved. I wanted the person to care about me. Not to treat me careless and rough. I wanted the person to hold me close instead of push me away and make a pointless comment about how good the sex was. 

I waited till he fell asleep then tip toed towards my clothes. I got dressed quickly and disappeared. I sneaked into my room. As soon as I sat down on my bed I started crying. Big sobs escaped my throat. I clasped my hand in front of my mouth. If I woke my parents I would be dead for sure. 

The only thing I could think of was him. 

I reached for my phone that was still in my bag. After rummaging for a while I found it. I searched urgently for his number then called him. He took a while to answer and I knew he was sleeping. 

“Hello?” Shawn said, his voice rough.

I paused. 

How do you say this to someone?

“Can you come over?”

“I’ll be there right now.”

And right then my heart started beating like normal again and I could breathe. 

Shawn came over and climbed the tree the way he always did since we were young. He climbed through my window and I helped him up. He sat down on my bed and I followed suit. I collapsed in his arms and he held me. We sat like that while I cried. I didn’t care that I was staining his sleep shirt. I didn’t care that I was weak. That he didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t care that he could judge me for this. I didn’t care that my life felt like it was over. 

Because he was there. 

And that was all I needed. 

That was the kind of friend he was. That was what he meant to me. It was funny. I went all the way to the city, met a stranger and did something I should never have done, just to feel someone care. Yet here I rested against my best friend, the only person that ever did. 

If only the only person that cared wasn’t just a friend.