Believing Lies From Broken Relationships

All I ever wanted was to be a simple person.

I was happy doing simple things. I was raised normally, going through preschool, then elementary, and finally middle school normally. I had some friends, not to many, but not to few; They treated me nicely, I got betrayed once or twice, I got over it. My grades were pretty good, A’s, B’s, and an occasional C. I played a few sports, though I was never an MVP, and played piano for a little while, not long enough to learn much.

I dressed normally, making the change from dresses to shorts and tee-shirts along with everyone else. I went to birthday parties and dressed up and learned to put on makeup, just like every other girl. I lived in a midsized house with a pretty lawn and flower beds. I had my first boyfriend in middle school and he broke my heart, which I soon learned was normal. I made my first kiss awkward and laughed it off and, by the end of eighth grade, was a relationship expert.

As I got older, I changed just normally. I took down my pink drapes and replaced them with blue and green ones instead. I removed my princess sheets and put on tie die ones instead. Then I took those off and put on solid blue ones instead. I lived in my room through the last half of sixth grade up until eighth, only leaving for my friends. I daydreamed about living with my husband and having kids and growing old.

Even now, in high school, I was fairly normal. I wore regular clothes, had regular friends, and did regular things. I only went to parties once in a while, and just for people I knew. I didn’t drink much alcohol or smoke at all. I didn’t have any particular group or club I belonged to, so, like, most teenagers, I spent most of my time with my friends.

All it took to change that was one night at a local bar.

I hadn’t told anyone after it happened, as it was something I’d rather block from my mind all together. I had simply explained that my mom needed me home to watch my younger sister because it was to late for her to be home alone. We had driven home in silence, her to drunk to make any real conversation and me to disturbed. My mom had lightly questioned why I was home so early, but let it drop, just glad that I had come home; She always worried about me when I was out with Mandy. She wasn’t used to my friends being so rebellious.

It wasn’t for another two weeks she really started to worry; I stopped going out, even to Mandy’s house, and instead, just sat at home in my room, reliving that night again and again. She tried to coax me out, even going as far as to offer me fake ID’s so I could have some “fun”. Of course, I politely declined, saying I needed to study.

She enlisted the help of all my friends. Mandy spent hours sitting in my room, watching me lay on my bed in silence. My other, more soft spoken friends called for a few weeks, inviting me out, before they gave up. Mandy was the only one that kept coming. She started questioning me when I told her I had a big test the day after her birthday party and couldn’t come. After a month and a half, she figured out it was something to do with the bar, but never got any further than that.

The reason being, my mother decided the only way to get me back to normal was to move. All the way to England.

That evoked the first reaction out of me since the bar, “Sheffield?” I bit my lip and wrapped my arms around my chest to reassure myself this wasn’t real. I had friends here, a life. I had spent years and years building up everything to this point and, honestly, I wasn’t ready to give up Big Sur, California. I had grown up sunning on the granite cliffs and climbing the millions of redwood trees.

My mom nodded, her face expressionless as she starred at me.

“What the hell? No. This isn’t fair. This isn’t my fault. Why are you punishing me?”

“Sofia,” my mom scolded, “we’re going, like it or not.”

I could see her face turn to desperate anger. She wanted to move about as much as I did, being more popular. She was used to, though she was only in eight grade, a party every weekend and friends nonstop. Our phone rang off the hook until our mom got her a cell phone.

“Why not just send her!? Its her fault!”

My mom shot her an ‘end of discussion’ glare before grabbing her keys to go and pick up some boxes from a neighbor who had recently moved.

It was only after my mom had left that I realized exactly what was happening. Sofia shot out of the kitchen without a word.

“Sofia! Wait!” I called chasing her down to our basement staircase. “I’m sorry!”

“Save it Matt,” she slammed the door in my face and a second later I could hear the TV click on.

I hit my head against the wall before pulling my cell phone out of my pocket and immediately calling Mandy over. I couldn’t bare to tell her over the phone; I needed her here now. Besides, knowing how much Sofia hated me left me feeling strangely hopeless.
Despite the age difference, we were actually pretty close. She always had my back and I had taught her most, non-school related things, she knew.

“Mattie!” Mandy launched herself at me, leaving the door swinging on its hinges.

“Mandy,” I clutched her tightly, tears already dripping down my face.

“I can’t believe you’re moving? What am I going to do without you? I have to survive the rest of high school alone?” She led me over into he living room, sitting us down on the couch.

I laughed at her; Mandy was the one person who could make me laugh no matter what. She was like the best boyfriend I had ever had. I had no idea what I was going to do alone in Sheffield.

“Where am I going to find a new Mandy?”

“Bitch,” she snapped her fingers, “please. You can’t just pick all this up on the street!”

“I don’t want to,” I paused, looking around the kitchen, where we were still standing. “You’re coming with me. We’ll have fun together, even if it is in Sheffield. We’ll find new friends and everything.”

She picked me up, pulling me into her arms lovingly, and whispered, “I wish.”

Tears started falling freely from my closed eyes into her chest. She stroked my hair calmingly, not even saying anything about the fact that her shirt was being thoroughly soaked through. How the hell am I supposed to get through Sheffield without her? It was going to be pure agony.

“Mandy, I’m gunna miss you so much.”

“Me to, babe.”

If being away from Mandy didn’t kill me, Sheffield sure as hell would.