Some Best Friends Share Everything
Renee placed a blanket over her mother and younger sister Lindsay, both asleep on the couch, tired from their long day. Her mother’s skirt and blouse were floating around on the floor, so Renee bent down and picked them up. She grabbed the matching jacket from the armchair and walked to the laundry.
Grabbing the hamper on her way, she opened the washing machine and shoved her mother’s clothes inside, hanging the jacket on a coat-hanger so that it wouldn’t crease. Since Dad left, everything’s been reversed. It seems like I’m the parent, not the child … if it was for me, Mum wouldn’t be able to cope. It’s always me who does the washing, the ironing, the cooking—but, if I left it to Mum it’d never get done. At least I have Sean to make me feel better. She shook some powder into the machine then shut the lid, turning the knob to wash. Then, Renee lent on the wall, thinking dreamily of Sean. Desperate to talk to him, she ran to the phone, quickly dialling his number … The answering machine picked up, and Renee remembered that Sean worked nights.
"You know that’s not what he really does, Renee … stop fooling yourself."
Ignoring the voice in her head, she rushed to her bedroom, needing to see his smiling face so she could believe that he really did love her, the ugly half of her best friend, Jessica. She grabbed the frame in desperation, then sighed as she saw his face. "Oh, Sean … I don’t think I can cope for much longer. I wish you would let me come and live with you instead. But, I guess I should stay here with Mum till Julie’s older. Maybe if Dad comes back …" Renee was clinging to the hope of her father’s return, trying to believe she had a future.
Jessica was in the picture, too. She’d been Renee’s friend since kindergarten … Jessica had always been beautiful, with her long, blonde hair and deep blue eyes. That was why so many guys were crazy for her … and why so many other girls hated her. They hated Renee, too, for being friends with her. Renee never believed all the things they said about Jessica, though—she knew that it was just their jealousy that made them call Jessica a ‘sleep-around’ and a ‘slut’.
"Jeez, Renee … get a frickin’ life! All you are is Jessica’s little toy … you know exactly what she says about you, that you’re her "dog". And, even Mr. Perfect, Sean used to date her, back in Year 8. Ever wondered what kind of grisly stories might have sprung from that relationship?"
Sean was all she had, what she clung to. Losing him would kill her. The voice in her head was wrong … all it ever wanted to do was make her feel bad.
"But, Renee … don’t you want to know the truth?"
The truth hurt more than rejection ever could. She wouldn’t listen to the voice in her head, the thing which was trying to destroy her life. She’d see Sean and Jessica at school tomorrow, and everything would be fine. They were her stabilisers; they made her see everything perfectly. They were so eloquent, could make you believe everything would be alright …
"You mean, they’d lie to you because they want to use you and your money for shooting up?"
Blinking, Renee walked back through the living room to the kitchen, hungry for a sandwich. She opened the freezer and started defrosting some bread, then opened the fridge for a snack until the bread was useable. Her hand drifted towards a chocolate bar, but she controlled herself and grabbed a carrot stick. Don’t want Sean to think I’m getting fat!
"Why? You’d be better off without him, you know … where do you think he is now, anyway? I do …"
"Shut up!" Renee lost control of herself, and reached for the chocolate again. She tore into the wrapping like an animal, then devoured it in a matter of seconds. Turning back to the doorway, she saw her mother standing there.
"Renee, are you alright?" Concerned, her mother placed a hand on Renee’s forehead, checking her temperature. "Seems normal …"
Renee shook her mother off. "Mum, I’m fine, okay?"
The defensive tone flustered her mother. "Oh, well, yes, dear. All I wanted was a glass of win—uh, water. Glass of water." Renee turned away, waiting for her mother to leave. She heard the footsteps retreating, then stopped. "Renee, I haven’t seen Sean for a while … ask him to dinner for tomorrow night, alright?"
She nodded her head, and her mother continued back to her room. Renee knew that her mother would be asleep in a matter of minutes, if the wine did what it usually did. Noticing her bread was still half-frozen, but not wanting to wait for it, she grabbed a butter knife and started to spread peanut butter over the frosty bread.
"You can’t leave me behind, Renee. Remember what your Dad used to call you? … Reni. You were always his favourite, you know."
"And he deserted me, didn’t he? Like everyone else but Sean and Jess have."
"You really still believe that they’re your friends? I can see Sean right now … he always turns on the answering machine when it’s nighttime just so you won’t suspect anything. Right now, Jessica’s there, and—"
"No! Don’t!"
"—he’s pushing himself on top of her, and she’s screaming out his name into the cold, dark night. She’s his for the night … He goes to her for sex, and he comes to you for forgiveness. She’s his mistress, you’re his priest. He never wanted you, unless you could help him fulfil his needs when she couldn’t."
Renee sunk to the floor, butter knife in hand. She was shaking from the confrontation of that which she had known for so long but had never said aloud. "Why are you doing this?!" she called to the voice.
"Because you deserve to know. She’s having a baby, you know. It’s his."
She sobbed into the linoleum kitchen floor, tears which she had not cried for so long. She had suppressed all these feelings for so long that she felt relief and anger.
"Remember the night when he forced himself on you, the time when you first realised what was going on … while she watched? WHILE YOUR BEST FRIEND WATCHED?!?! That’s his, too."
Renee looked up, her eyes red. The first thing she saw—the kitchen cabinet—she punched. A knife fell down, one of those self-sharpening ones which was in a little case. She’d used to make dinner earlier, to cut the tomatoes, but had never washed it. She pulled it out, examining the dried tomato seeds on the blade.
"He deserves everything he gets for what he did to you, Renee. Why don’t you just kill him?"
She shook her head. "No."
"Don’t you think he deserves to die for what he did to you?"
"Yes."
"Then why won’t you kill him?"
"Because I don’t have the right to kill another human being, regardless of what they did to me."
"Well, what do you have the right to do?"
"This."
Renee pushed the tomato-stained knife into her stomach, her face contorting in immense pain. Darkness came, then:
Nothing.
