Even though she tries to mask her sadness with smiles, I see it. I see the laughter that doesn't reach her eyes. I see the plastic smiles that only stop at the corners of her mouth. She's not happy. She’s so not happy. I know this because I know her too deeply. I know her even more than she knows herself and I’ve noticed that she has changed.
Ever since she had that baby, she became a different person. She used to be a fun loving, outgoing girl – just like me. Just less than a year ago, we were wild and crazy, doing crazy stuff together every chance we got but now she's withdrawn and serious. Too serious.
Now, she’s always thinking. Always worried about something and I know it can’t be anything but her baby. She feels trapped. She can't go out and enjoy the good things of life like me. She can't flex like we used to and even though she acts like it doesn’t bother her, I know deep down that she hates her life.
I think I see the look of envy. The look of jealousy whenever I’m going out with a brand new guy and she’s stuck at home, looking after her baby. All she thinks of now is the baby. That is sad. I am sad for her because she's my friend and I want what’s best for her.
Maybe I can help her. I can help her get back the life she craves so much for. I miss my partner in crime. I miss how we used to the boys, I miss the adventures, the trips, the balling, the parties, the drunken spree. I miss most especially, the threesomes and foursomes where we used compete on who will moan the loudest.
She can’t tell me she doesn’t miss all that. I know she does. I have to help bring her back. I feel guilty just enjoying all these by myself. I have to help her get back to living life. She’s my best friend, so, I can’t bear to see her live like that. I must do something. I will do anything so she can have her life back.
It wouldn’t have gotten to this if she had listened to me during the early stages of her pregnancy but she was afraid to die. I didn’t blame her too much. She was the timid one while I was the daring and adventurous one. We complemented each other like that.
The baby’s cry pierced through my thoughts. I had managed to get my friend to fall asleep in my room as she never sleeps because of the baby’s incessant cries. I tiptoed out of my room to hush the baby before she woke my flat mate. When I got to my friend’s room, I saw her lying on her mother’s bed, legs and hands in the air, mouth wide open, producing the loudest cry a baby could muster.
I quickly bent over and covered her little mouth to muffle her cry but she struggled against me, using her little tight fisted hands to try and push my hand away from her mouth. See this baby o.
Then it occurred to me that this was an opportunity to free my friend once and for all.
I looked around for something I could use. Nothing. I dashed into the kitchen which was very close to my friend’s room and came back with a knife. She had let out three ear piercing cries and was about to let out the fourth one when my left palm covered her mouth again. I hoped she did not wake her mother.
I tried to handle the knife well with my right hand so I could just stab her one time and end everything.
“She’s awake?” I heard a sleepy voice say from behind me. I was startled out of my skin. The knife fell from my hand unto the rubber carpet as I turned to face my friend.
“Sylvia!” she exclaimed when she saw the knife on the carpet. She was wide awake now. She shoved me aside and rushed to inspect her baby. She touched the screeching baby frantically, checking to see if she was hurt. When she was sure that her baby was fine she turned to me.
The look in her eyes was murderous. I wonder why she gave me such look when I was only trying to save her. She looked at the knife on the carpet, stooped low to pick it up and then she took threatening steps towards me and pointed the knife at me. The tip of the knife was just an inch from my neck.
“If I see you in my room again or anywhere near my baby, I will kill you,” she said in a kind of menacing tone I’ve not heard from her before.
The fear of the lord gripped me. I was sure I was going to die but she let me go.
I ran out of her room, thanking God for sparing my life and vowing to never make assumptions about other people’s life again.