....I looked inside at the bright lights of Wing Wa's, the local Chinese restaurant. The sound of chopsticks on bowls and contented chatter drifted outside with blasts of warmth from the automatic doors. It all felt a thousand miles away from the car-park in the winter cold. I felt separate from the rest of the world, like it wasn't quite real. I saw Ben at the far end of the building, waiting to be seated. I watched him slide into the shiny leather booth with his back to me. As he turned round to look through the sliding glass doors to where I was, I ducked behind a low pillar out of sight. I felt his gaze sweep over me, and yet again I doubted whether to go in. In his eyes I saw the memories of 15 years. I saw regret. I saw sorrow. But I saw hope - hope that tonight we could settle all our differences, once and for all - make a new start and put our problems aside.
I could still remember the first day I met him. I was five and he was just a year older. It was his job to show me round the new school, the big school, where everything was perfect and undamaged, a place where you could grow up safely, independently. My opinion always was that five was far too young to send a child away to a full-time boarding school. I couldn't even remember my parents. No letters, no photos, no memories. I liked to pretend that they didn't exist. Ben was my family or, at least, the closest thing I had to family. Maybe that was why I turned out so bad. Or maybe it was that when Ben was supposed to show me how to be good, he showed me how to be popular instead. He taught me jokes, he taught me pranks, he taught me everything no-one else would. Sometimes the consequences were horrible - even terrifying but that didn't put us off. He taught me that it was always important to have fun - no matter what the cost was.
After he made me push my friend down a 50ft high cliff in the middle of the night, we drifted apart. I remember him holding the gun to my head, screaming at me. The cold winter wind bit me and stung tears to my eyes, but the wind wasn't the only thing making me cry. His voice still cuts through me like a knife through butter. "Throw her, Fleur. Just push her, watch her fall!" As I heard the gun click, I looked into Jasmine's eyes for the last time. I watched her mouth to me, in desperation "Don't do it, please!" A last hope, all her expectation bundled into one last plea. I was frozen with fear. My ulterior motive, all or nothing, live or let live, do or die. As he fired the gun at my head, I dodged and knocked her down the cliff.
It hadn't been the first time he'd done something like that, or the first time he'd made me do something so catastrophic. He made me loose a bull in the middle of a village, in the pitch black. He made me burn down an old building. He made me put rocks and coins on train-tracks, so the train would de-rail. I hated him for it. I hated myself for not standing up to him for never being able to say no to him, for never turning and walking away. I couldn't, because I didn't want to lose him. I didn't want the years of memories to go to waste. but what I hated the most was that I liked all the horrible things I did. I liked the fear. I liked the fact that I knew I could trust him, no matter what. He was always there if I needed him and he never failed to get me out of trouble. If I was hurt or upset, he would always comfort me when I needed it most. He would make karma bite whoever had upset me. Ben was my protection and in return all I had to do was this; what he wanted. Which, although mean.... I enjoyed. But it was always people I didn't really know. When he made me kill Jasmine, I really took a blow. I almost followed her off the cliff. Ben stopped me. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me away from the edge. I watched as her limp, lifeless body fell down the cliff, catching on the jagged rocks.
He span me round to face him and walked me firmly away from the edge. I looked warily at the gun in his hand and he threw it over the edge. He slapped me round the face. Twice. Hard. the silence that followed was deafening.
"What are you doing?" he demanded, screaming at me.
I had been so close..... I thought of all the pain and regret of my life. All the things I had dome wrong, all the lives I had taken, all the misery I had caused..... it could all have been over. All of it. No more worries. No more pain. The end of it all, forever.
"I wanted it over..... it hurt too much...." I stammered. It sounded so stupid when I said it. How could I ever expect to understand? No-one would. I was being over-dramatic.....but....it felt right.... He sighed at me and turned his head away, like he was disgusted...no, disappointed. Disappointed in me? Who had been at his beck and call for years? Ashamed...? He fixed my gaze. "Pathetic. Just pathetic. Why would you want to do that? You're just a teenager - you have everything ahead of you!" What he didn't understand was that I had so much behind me too. Too much history. It all hurt too much. I'd never really considered it before, but it just felt so right to be able to do it, to push myself over.... This was what I wanted. It felt like it made so much sense. It fitted. I was so light-headed, but determined. A thousand people could stand in my way before I stopped wanting it. It hurts me so much that he had stopped me. This was something I knew I could do with no support. I didn't need any one else....
I walked away that night, numb. Numb with shock. Numb with hate. He wouldn't have just let be... I ignored all his attempts to contact me. I blocked him out of my life. I was capable of taking care of myself. I had been back to that cliff so many times over the following years. I wouldn't sleep for days at a time. Just staring at the horizon. I wouldn't eat. I stood in the wind and the rain. I didn't notice anything beyond my tears. When, after months, I went back to my boarding school, I was lost. It was weeks before I stopped crying myself to sleep, before the nightmares stopped, before I didn't feel isolated. I made new friends. I moved on. But it was the hardest thing I ever had to do and no-one ever really understood.
Now, Wing Wa's lights looked so soft and comforting compared to the horror of my past. I knew I couldn't go in. But I remembered all the times he had comforted me, all the times he had stuck up for me, all the times he had kept me safe. I thought how he had bothered to make an effort. How much he seemed to regret everything he had said. It was genuine regret. How much he had tried to say sorry. to make me listen, to help me understand. I looked back at all the nights I had been awake, with fears and worries, and he had been there for me to cry into his shoulder, to wipe away my tears, to take the pain away.
If I walked in, I would listen to him. Listen to why he did those things and made me follow him. I would tell him how I felt. How he hurt me so much. We would come to some level of understanding, of agreement. We would walk away as friends, putting our mistakes behind. Even I was no perfect friend. Ben would have good reason to be upset. I had let him down, failed his expectations. Many times I had shouted at him. If I went in we could forgive each other, make amend..... It would all be okay again.....
But what if he hadn't changed? If he still thought it was okay to make me hurt other people? If he put me back into a position where I had no choice, I couldn't breath? This wasn't a decision I could make on my own. I fished a twenty pence piece out of my small bag. I had to leave this to fate. Heads I went in, tails..... I didn't. I balanced it on my thumb and flicked it straight up into the air, my eyes trained on it, as it flipped over, and over, and over...
I tried to tell myself it didn't matter how it landed ... but Ben was the closest thing I had to family, the only one who even came close to understanding. If I did go in, the chances were that he would ruin my life, but he was my life. He was my best friend, my worst enemy, my teacher, my family. Without him, nothing really mattered.
How is it, that losing the thing, the person, who hurt the most, hurts more than you can ever imagine?
I walked away without looking how the coin landed. My make-up was smudged with tears as I walked away. If I didn't do this myself, in time, I knew he would. my feet walked me to the cliff where jasmine died, but this time no-one stopped me when I got to the edge. Too much behind, nothing ahead. I didn't need anyone, and no-one needed me.
