10 October 2008

** Seventy One **

i dont know where to start.
first of all i do not know what i did wrong.
i do not know what pissed my mum off all the sudden.
but i really dont know how much more of this i can take.
so now i'm gonna say this.
i dont like talking to my mum.
i never did.
and without even realizing how much i have to be talking to her for our class shirt.
at first.
for the sake of the class.
but now it's gone way over the boundary.
i dont know how much more i can seriously take.
and right now.
i apologise first and foremost.
because if i knew what i did wrong i'd correct it.
but right now i do not know what i did wrong.
and she's being like a spoilt kid.
well..technically...i dont know when am i gonna get it done.
i've done all i can.
i just hate talking to her.
i wish i knew what i did wrong.
it feels as if the stall of our class shirt is my fault.
i'm sorry. i really am.
i dont know what more can i do.
i dont know what more can i say.
i dont know what went wrong.
it's not about the design.
it's not about the shirt.
it's just me and my mum.
and right now...
i dont know what am i gonna do.
im just sorry...
i dont know when's it gonna get done...
and if i knew i had to go through all this
i wouldn't have volunteered.
this has seriously gone over my boundary.
i dont even know what to say to her anymore.
why can't she just tell me what i did wrong?!
i dont know what is she trying to do to me.
but right now i feel extremely guilty.
maybe she expects my class to hate me for not getting their shirt done in time.
maybe she expects me to lose all my friends just because of this stupid shirt.
i cant see the letters on the keyboard.
i cant talk to her anymore.
not now at least.
not in the next few years!!
i cant take it.
every time i talk to her it goes ugly.
i tried so hard to keep it from anything but that.
so hard.
it ended up that way anyway.
i really really sorry.
i'm just feeling this extreme guilt right now.
asking myself what the hell did i do wrong.
asking myself did i say something wrong.

i dont want to talk to her anymore.

i dont know what went wrong...

i'm sorry...

but i cant talk to her anymore...
i just cant...

maybe i'll try again later...
i feel so guilty...

she smiles and offers her hand to shake. blindly i took it. shook and bonded and friendship.
no doubt it grew like the storms of the sea. like the flowers in spring. like snow during winter. like the sun in summer. like dry leaves in autumn.
"hi. i'm Phoebe."
the very first line that bonded us.
my name's Phoebe too. and no surprise she looked like me.
just she was more of an "It-girl" and i am more of an outcast. yeah. a big question mark appears. why the hell is the it-girl hanging out with an outcast like me. here's why.
at first she came over. to hang out in my room. sing songs on the radio and revise homework and what nots.my mother was fine with me. she was glad i was making friends. i thought so too.
i wasn't until last month when i realized something about her i hated. hate is such a strong word. but yes. i hated.
i began to realize where our friendship was leading. she had her new group of it-girls. and though she'd drag me along to hang out with them. i feel like an outcast. exactly.
they'd talk about which guy has the cuter butt. which lip gloss looked nicer on who. what a disaster that girl's outfit is. i felt adrift. like i was lost. i might be sitting with them during lunch, walking with them to classes and hanging out with them at gym. but i never once joined their conversation. i just nodded and smiled.
i feel her changing. i feel Phoebe changing. not me Phoebe. Her.
it was worst when she had a boyfriend. she'd plan all kinds of double dates and invite me to come along. maybe it was intentionally cause it felt that way. just to make me feel even more out casted than i already am. i'd hear her giggle from a mile away. i know it's her.
she threw a birthday party. invited me. i came. why did i come?! she was dressed in just enough cloth. if you get what i mean. then again. who am i to judge. they'd probably say i dress like a slob. she smiled and gave me a hug.
to me the hug didnt feel a thing. it wasn't the only buddies hug we had. i feel nothing. the friendship somehow had faded. and i regretted coming to that party.
but it'd be rude to just leave after coming not more than 5seconds. i faked a smile. i know she couldnt tell anyway. she was too busy with the glitz and glamour.
i drowned in the crowd that night. like a sailor lost at sea. a sea of people. i was leaving when i hear her heels. uneven but they were getting louder.
grabbing my arm she fell.
her smudged mascara eyes met me. barely open. "Phoebe...." i dont know what to call that tone. she spoke and i could smell the alcohol. i had enough. i yanked my arm off her grasps. "Phoebe..."

know why i left?!
i overheard her. talking to her friends. maybe it was a good thing i came.

she giggled. "i dont think she'd even know."
"are you sure..."
"it's going pretty well isnt it?!"
she took another sip and continued.
"yeah. he's totally falling for me instead of her."
"give a month or so??"
"haha!!!! give it 24hours more and he's mine!"

i stormed up to her. slapped her in the face. screamed at her.
"Phoebe!" i stopped my hand from slapping her again.
i walked away.

she lied to me. she took the friendship i thought was real for granted. she played me just because i needed a friend. who knows maybe her name's not even Phoebe. after all she'd lied to me about everything else.
for all i know. i went home laughing.
laughing at her.

she's smiling now. i know she is. cuz I'm the last one that saw her.
she's upside down in her own room. letting that metallic scent surround her room. onto her satin bed sheets.
she's staring at me right now. her head. in the palm of my hands. a gift. for her parents.

0 complaints: