G.

                She had always been the most uplifting one of the group. Earthy tones had always covered the optimistic flower-child and she hardly complained about trivial things. A smile tended to stretch across her face, her body was unstill as she yearned for something other than sitting on a couch. Always laughing, always making others laugh, never bringing in negative air. Probably the happiest and healthiest of us.

            But here she was, walking up my stairs in tears, her face red as she wiped the moisture to her hands. I reached out and she quickly accepted the embrace.

            “Everything sucks,” she cried. We moved into the spare room and sat. She continued as I got a good look at her. Normal clothes, her hair pulled back, but something unusual stuck out amongst her usual bracelets. A white cloth covering her wrist. I was shocked. I mean, I’ve had the attention seeking “friends” that would show up with their scratches and stories, pretending to hide what they, apparently, didn’t want people to see. But this was different. She was one to yell at someone for doing that. She would think it was stupid. But here she was, with a medical grade bandage around her wrist. I didn’t bother to ask, because she was about to tell me everything. And she did.

            I already knew about her smoking weed, and I already knew that she had sex before, but that was it. Her parents were divorcing, she had her military boyfriend, went to high school and had a job. None of this is special or surprising. But what came out of her next was news, which perhaps was my fault for just being home all the time. Drugs, sex with friends of friends, and being committed to the local institution for trying to kill herself. These weren’t happening all the time, but they happened about once or twice.

            “You know,” she said after the quick list of what she had done. “He told everyone in his family that I was a crack addict. His own girlfriend. He lied to them all for no reason.” Anger was starting to overcome the tears of pain and sadness. “His family was like mine. His sister is one of my best friends and his mom was way more of a mom to than my own. I don’t know what to do. They all hate me now.”