Saturday 14 May 2011

Samantha Cooper

The blond I mentioned is called Samantha Cooper. I guess, you could call her a childhood friend. If by friend you mean someone who randomly came into your house one day with a hangover, heavy luggage bags, a face full of tears and say that their landlord just kicked them out for setting a curtain on fire. then yes.

We met around fifth grade in our hometown. Back then, only one school had been open. Most of the kids whose parents couldn't afford the education became fishermen, hunters or something else. After all, who needs to read a book when you can skin a bear and hunt a deer? The school still had a decent amount of kids though, but I didn't bother making friends. Too shy, I guess. I used to be different back then, preferred being alone by myself instead of playing with others.

There was this game I used to play by myself at the town park. The town park was more of a playground, where a half-circle of large, tall black trees bordered us from the rest of the forest. I would always go to the very edge of the place and play my little game. It was a simple one, pick out one of the roots that stood out from the ground and balance yourself on it. After a while, I would look around for another root and see if I could make a jump to it. Too far and I would fall off, too close and I might lose my balance on the spot.

 One day when I made the jump, a ball of fucking white hit me right in the back of my leg.

I can still remember the pain I had when I was lying on the cold ground, trying not to cry. My teeth gritted together to stop myself from bawling and all I saw were the park swings from a weird angle. There were footsteps after a few seconds, crunching the dead leaves as it got closer. My eyes were too watery to even see properly at the time but I can remember a few images faintly. I saw this woman in a clean white parka that was one size too big for her slim figure run up to me. A pair of hands grabbed me to pull me up and I noticed long pale gold hair touching me on the face. The woman took out a piece of cloth from her parka and wiped my tears away, all the while saying comforting words to me and checking to see if I was alright. I shook my head even though my leg was hurting like hell. Then, she took me by the hand and led me down to the swings.

That was when I met Samantha.

The moment we got close enough to the swings and my tears finally dried up, I saw this yellow and white blur going up and down on the swings. Samantha was probably the fastest person I had ever saw on them. The woman, her mom called her name. "Samantha," it was a soothing and kind voice but at the same time, you could almost hear the anger and authority behind it. The blur slowed down and a little girl slightly taller than me hopped off her swing like a cat. Samantha was like an identical twin to her mother, but younger and had this childish frown on her face. She folded her arms, came up to us and said defiantly, "What." It didn't even sound like a question, just a plain old word of defiance. Her green eyes just stared at you deep into your soul and it seemed like she could have just bit your head off. I teared a little at her mean behavior, Samantha's mom let out a long disappointing sigh. 

"Samantha, apologize to him."
"No," she said and just continued staring at me bitterly.
"Samantha-"
"No!" she cut her own mother off and something must have snapped in me because I suddenly felt angry at her.
"You're a meanie! Jerk!" I just yelled childishly.
"No, you are!"
"No, you!"
"No, you!"

I can't even remember how long it continued before Martha finally managed to drag us back to her house and called my mother. The argument just kept going and going and going until my parents came. I remember seeing how she stuck her tongue out at me and I did the same thing. The  very next day, she came to me during recess in school. I didn't even notice at first with her hair tied up into a bun. It took me a while but when I recognized who she was, I recoiled and slid all the way to the other side of the bench with my sandwich. She smiled and slid over to me. I can remember even until today what she said, "Hey, I'm sorry for yesterday okay?" I was surprised at her being nice at first but then, she grabbed the uneaten sandwich out of my hand and took a cute little bite out of it.

"See? I'm being nice," and she just smiled at me. My skin crawled. No words were said for the rest of recess. I was hungry and felt uneasy all day long. The rest of my childhood was the same, she would take what I had and I would have to suffer from our dreaded relationship. From that day on, I started carrying an extra sandwich to school. She didn't even seemed surprised and the same thing applied to the rest of what I did.

If she saw playing by the trees, she would make me teach her how and if I was caught running errands for my parents, she would make it a mission to make me late. All of that lasted for years and years until we parted ways for college. We kept in touch though. She would just blab to me about all the boys she dated, and sometimes call for advice. Last time I heard of anything, she went to Massachusetts while I came to New York. Then, about a year ago we met again.

In an interrogation room.

Turns out Samantha's plans in Masses fell out and she came to NY for a breather. She got stuck here instead without enough money to back and got drunk with what was left of it. I didn't even recognize her until I saw her ID, and the fake in a slit on the back of the wallet. She got detained for a while until I offered to call her parents but she refused. I ended up sending her back to her little apartment. Just like the old times.

But honestly, I didn't mind too much.

Not until she arrived at my front door.

Good God, where did I go so wrong?


5 comments:

  1. Ouch, you still remember all that?
    I already said I was sorry for it, and I don't remember being THAT drunk. Also, I can swear to you that I had no idea how that ID got there. Or the pack of bmp.

    And God, Massachusetts was a mistake.

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  2. You called me "Javier" and kept on mumbling about Picasso being an aline. That's how drunk you were.

    And you do realize you're breaking your little promise right?

    I'm also going ignore what you said about the bmp.

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  3. Lol, you still remember all of that?

    And I wasn't THAT drunk was I? D:
    Besides, I have absolutely no idea how that fake ID got there.

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  4. You called me 'Javier' and hugged the table leg, tortured half the precinct with your singing. You're lucky you were let off with nothing more than a warning for getting so drunk.

    Also, remember our deal?

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  5. Derp, fine then.
    And no, I haven't forgotten about our little promise. >:3

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