Real Friend

They say it takes a village to raise a child. If you consider that a mind should be supplied with the resources of many voices, then you certainly must believe this is true. For danger lies in the minds of those who only hear one voice. That is far too much power for anyone to have over another life. No one should want that power. If he or she does, they are not sound nor should they be listened to. And if that sole voice is his or her own, horror will present itself.

When comes the magical moment in a persons life when the village no longer becomes responsible? Do you sit at your job and listen to the co-worker next to you make racist comments? Does he make them to you as a sympathetic ear? Do you turn your head at the woman at the store who needlessly yells at her children? Is it not your business? When someone gossips in your ear about someone else’s troubles, do you laugh? Are you glad they aren’t talking about you? Rest assured someone is. Are your blinds shut at the first sign of conflict or danger? Can you matter? What if you said something? Would it matter?

All these things come to mind when the story of Alice is told. She had but one person to rely on in her childhood. Well, let’s call that two since she did also have herself. She had no siblings. Her father was not anyone she had ever met nor had any contact with. Only her mother, Doris, was there. Alice was home schooled. Doris trusted no one with her precious daughter’s education. Alice was warned repeatedly that outsiders were harmful. There is no love like the love a mother, now is there?

The gossip ring in Spring Valley was quite fascinated by Doris and her daughter Alice. They knew the woman was crazy. They knew the child had no friends. So what did they do? Forbid their own children to play with Alice. Occasionally, some do gooder would knock on the door and bring Diane a loaf of bread to be neighborly, or to ask her to a church social knowing she would decline. As they stood at the door and peered into the dark house, they took photographs with their minds of what was behind Diane so they could report of the decay that they witnessed.

What Doris did not know was that Alice did eventually make friends. Neighborhood children would peak over the fence to say hello. She would visit with them and hide in the bushes for afternoon tea parties or games of truth or dare. It was the only peace she had. Children do know when parents are not right. It torments them. Fundamental love is a gift they have, but it starts to become torture when they want to defy because of their own beliefs that differ.

Alice’s friends were her world. She considered the one with her mother to be fake. It was how she survived the abuse. She molded herself into what pleased in a hope to thwart the constant attacks. Give them no excuses, she thought. She held onto to her sanity best she could.

Timmy was the friend she desired to be with the most. He was kind to her. He would appear in the yard and her troubles melted away. Sometimes, he would bring her flowers that he picked. His words were always gentle. It was an adolescent love, but her first. It was innocent and lovely. When she needed protection, she thought of him. It calmed her.

When Alice was eighteen, her mother became ill. It was cancer and she would not last long. All Alice knew was the home she had grown up in. She cared for Doris until the end. It was sadness and relief. Timmy had disappeared by this point. Sometimes, she would receive letters from him. He was away at college. The letters were of the future and his wishes to be with her again. She saved them, but did not reply.

When Doris did finally pass, Alice took what little money was left and moved to the city to find work. She was smart and found a job in an office. It was enough to pay the rent and manage. Much to the concern of her co-workers, she kept to herself.

Months passed. Alice stayed alone. She always declined when people would ask her to socialize. She remembered her mother’s warnings. People were dangerous. People were dishonest. You cannot trust them. Her fellow employees were sad that Alice would not join them. She was kind. They wanted her company. They wanted the best for her.

Letters began to arrive. Alice looked forward to them. The first one read, Alice, it’s been so long. I have missed you. I heard about your mother. Are you okay? I think about you all the time. I’m almost done with school. I will come for you, I promise. Always, Tim.

Peace came to Alice’s heart knowing that he was still out there thinking of her. There was no return address, but he had found her. He cared that much. She would wait. They would be together again. Flowers were sent to her office signed Yours Always. Tim. Her co-workers would peak over her cubical in curiosity hoping she would spill her secret to them. She kept to herself.

Alice received a final letter. It said, I am done with college. I will come to find you. I cannot wait for us to be together. I hope all is well. See you soon. Tim. She waited. It would all be okay once they were one. Alice walked to work looking behind her, always expecting to see his face. She imagined what would be. She would fall into him. They would be happy.

As Alice walked one day, she looked in a window. Behind her, she saw Tim’s reflection. When she turned around, he was gone. She ran into the street, not looking. She ran after him, with no thought in her head but him. The car did not see her. She was too quick.

Alice stood up from the accident and looked around. Tim approached. She ran to him. They embraced in a long, familiar passion that made the rest of the world disintegrate into nothing. When Alice came back to reality, she looked behind her. An ambulance had arrived. As she looked at the ground, she gasped. She turned to Tim.

“That is you! They are standing over you,” She was confused.

“No, Alice. It is you. That is your body on the ground. You are me. I was never real. You created me. But here I am.”

She stared at the body, then back at Tim. “But… how?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we are only real here.” He hugged her. “This feels real. Isn’t it? Isn’t this real? It’s a gift.”

As Tim and Alice walked off, a witness was speaking to the police that had arrived.

“Do you know this person?” one of the officers asked.

“Yes, yes,” the woman replied. “I work with her. She was very strange. I’ve never seen her dressed like a man as she is now, but she used to send flowers to herself. I saw her at the flower shop. She ordered a bouquet that arrived at our office that afternoon. It was strange. She was strange. Kind woman, so alone.”

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ssgift and twistedtournoi01