Fiction Story: The Forgotten Memory - Creative Writing

Introduction

For all I could remember, Neska and I had been friends for a long time, and nothing could separate the love we had for each other. Like she always said, "It will always be us against the world." And I would quickly reply that "We are the dynamic duo."

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It had been three years now, going four in the next month since Neska and I became friends, and like always, we would go on a road trip to the countryside; away from civilizations where we would be just the two of us. The bliss of solitude and the delicate patterns of peace that we found in each other's company complimented the rare friendship we had. Someone would easily say that we were the imperfect match, but for me, Neska was the only person who understood me better than anyone. After all, I have always believed that before meeting her I was nothing.

"You know our meeting was fateful," Neska said, smiling subtly and staring at a leaf that had just fallen next to her feet under the same tree that we always sat at least three-to-four days every week. Though she was turning seventeen this year, she carried with her the same look she had when we first met. She still had the same shoulder length black hair that she cut and dyed every time her birthday approached to hide the blonde tips revealing the true color of her hair. Cerulean blue eyes, constantly showing empathy, and that glittered to compliment her left-cheek dimple whenever she smiled. The only thing that made us different this time was the fact that she had grown a few inches taller than me. "How comes you haven't aged even one bit?" she asked, not expecting a response, but rather in a complementary manner. Though I understood that there was no need to give her an answer, this time I made a witty remark, "Well, would you have loved me any better if I was not the modern day Dorian Gray?"

Memories of our first meeting flooded my mind. Neska had just lost her brother, Julien, in a car accident while he was picking her from her boyfriend, with whom they had broken up. She had never explained what really happened to anyone but only me, on the events that unfolded and why she carried that burden of loss with her every day. Neska had just had a row with her boyfriend she found out that all along he was having an affair with her childhood friend. She contacted Julien to come pick her up, and while they were driving home, she got mad at him when he confronted her for being silly and knocked his hand that was steering the car causing him to lose control and swerved into a tree resulting to instant death. Fate was unkind to her that day as she was served another chance to live with nothing but a scar on her left arm. On that very day, a butterfly was robed its beauty.

"Hi" I gestured, extending my hand with scars to her.

"Hi" she responded, absentmindedly. She was seated by herself in the deserted parking lot wearing a white hospital robe. She looked perfectly normal, except for her swollen red eyes, with traces of tears.

"You look like you could use some company."

"Stop pursuing optimism in a place uninvited," she answered in a monotonous tone, "Just leave me alone."

I wanted to go away, but after staying alone for a while, I figured out misery keeps the best company. I had nothing to celebrate and feeling generous at a loss. So I sat next to her. "I have been in this position for a long time," I started, "and I am not really here to talk. I am just tired of sitting alone like no one notices me. I am not going to talk, so don't mind me." After an hour of silence she finally told me her name, and the rest as they say weaved into a friendship of a lifetime.

Three years now, and when she reminded me that our meeting was fateful, I could not help but laugh that the one person who hated me from the first sight, reminded me on a regular occasion that she could not leave without me.

As we sat enjoying the hymns of nothingness that they day brought while she read the book 'The Catcher in the Rye' she mentioned that she was not feeling well. When I inquired what she meant, she said, "I have been having restless and sleepless nights, and constantly thinking about my brother. I don't know how I can explain it. I have been thinking so much about my death. I am constantly overwhelmed by a sense of loss and hopelessness," she paused, "Is this okay?"

"You know this is not the first time I am begging you to go see a shrink."

"What will they do, convince me that I am losing my mind? No, I think I'll pass."

A week had gone, and she mentioned the same thing to me and refused to heed my advice, I was afraid that I was losing my best friend. She was barely fun to be around anymore. This is when it hit me that I should offer her an ultimatum. I promised her that if she sought medical attention, I would get us tickets to a Sleeping with Sirens concert, her favorite band. I knew she would not say no to this. That night she told her mother of her condition, and her mother booked her an appointment the following day with a psychiatrist.

Her first session she was diagnosed with chronic depression, and she was advised that every twice a week Neska was to have an appointment. After three sessions, I began to notice some change. Neska was getting better, but something was wrong. Neska was losing touch with me. One day the psychiatrist asked her if she had any friends. She hesitated, but she mentioned my name. Her mother looked her in shock; like this is the first time she mentioned my name. I felt betrayed as well. When she was asked the last time we spent time together, Neska stated that it had been a week since she saw me, which was unusual. When she left the session, she found me in the parking lot where we first met.

"What was that Neska? Are you so ashamed of me that you can't tell your momma that you have a friend?"

"Listen, I am sorry but either way, I need you to come with me tomorrow. I think it's time you meet my mom and the shrink. They don't think I have a friend." She answered. I agreed.

The following day, I accompanied her with jitters of joy and terror carousing underneath my skin. Neska left me in the waiting bay. I sat there looking at the individuals who all seemed to mind their business even to notice my presence. Neska walked out and called me to join her. My heart was drumming against my chest, as Neska ushered me into the room.

"Mom, Mr. Anderson, meet Jessica May." The two looked blankly at where I was standing like they could see through me. They could see through me. None of them could see me.

Mr. Anderson removed his glasses, sharply looking at and for me.

Suddenly, I was feeling cold as I watched Jessica looking at me in shock. "Jess, where are you? Mom, she was just here, why can't I see her?"

I was never real. I looked at my fading self in aghast as the truth hit me that I had helped my best friend become better only to realize that I was an imaginary friend she created to deal with her loss.