Photo by Susoma Halder

When placed under moments of pressure, the scenario of things that could go wrong ends up increasing tenfold. Mis-happenings— like mis-understandings, mis-communications, and mis-guidance —could lead to long term complications and judgements that only need one incident to stem from.

          That’s what happened between me and her. After that day back in sophomore year, I assumed the worst about her, and she about me. She saw me at fault, while I saw her at fault. She was the “evil” one, and I was the “stupid” one. It was in these thoughts we judged each other, but only on the furthest end of the physical spectrum, never coming close when we didn’t have to.

          I’m not sure why she unleashed her wrath upon me. Why did she turn and see me as an enemy? 

          It simply happened without warning. That day, my usual smile had been greeted with a scowl, something sour twisting up the corners of her lips as she stared blankly. Little did I know I would get used to this sight, and my smile would subconsciously morph over the weeks as I realized my efforts would not shift her stone heart.

          Why did I become another soul to add to the growing pile underneath her bone-twisted throne? Did she decide overnight that I wasn't worth being nice to anymore? Perhaps I had said something to piss her off, and didn't even realize it.

          Nonetheless, she never bothered to explain anything.

          But I can not say she betrayed me either. There was no shared agenda between us, nor a promised one. I had just seen it as a friendly connection, one friendly enough for her to create a 50 states index card, then give it to me when she thought it was to her disposal. One friendly enough for her to text me a happy winter break after I did to her. One friendly enough for her to flip through my school planner, designing creative and vibrant calligraphies of my name every time she became bored in class.

          But I guess it wasn’t that friendly connection she had seen. I’m not sure what she saw it as, and I can not say what. Perhaps I was something small she could resort to when she was alone. Or when her mind turned bitter. Or when she wanted to feel lively again, even just for a flickering second.

          I can say, however, that the friendly connection I once thought was between us is now gone, something wary and feeble that hardly comes up in my reminiscing moments. I had seen the way she had shifted in her poise and her actions as the years went by. Maybe she was always of this new nature, and decided to display it when she realized that the NEST was a space she could dominate.

          Sometimes I wonder if her empty eyes could still see the good in people. If her cold wrists could still seep slivers of warmth into her calligraphies.

    Sometimes I wonder if she realizes that the bone-twisted throne she sits upon will one day crack and collapse, and her own soul will join those she had thrown under for years in her fits of rage.