The Belle in the Casket. My Story.

The Belle in the Casket
Mariah Anderson
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“Somebody died, I’m not sure who”

I hear and stroll on. I’m stabbed with irony. I, also, am not completely sure. Who has died? Is it I? Or her? Technically, her body is in the casket. She is the one seemingly at peace. God knows I’m not. I catch a glimpse and quickly evade my glance. She wears the dress I bought with her and the necklace I also bear. One half adorning her neck, the other mine. The “Friends Forever” monogram is hidden under a thin layer of crimson rust. I used to shower with mine on. I never stopped wearing it. I also used to stick a guitar pick on the chain for décor. But hers is clean and unhindered as I pray her soul rests. Her fingernails are purple; a classic trademark. that was her favorite color.

Even in death, she amazed me with her presence. Lying with eyes gently closed, hands delicately at her side, and her fragile head lightly resting on a satin pillow. Were they attempting to make her seem asleep? They obviously know nothing (though I’m unaware who “they” is) She could never dream so still. On her stomach she always fell asleep quickly. Many times, the sound of her breathing or watching her rise with inhale had lulled me to bed.

I could try now to hear that faint rush of air I cleared my mind to when I was younger and more innocent. But to no avail. How could I sleep if the last time I saw her she was a cold and untouchable, unfamiliar statue in an embroidered coffin? Once loved more than ever could. That girl was my life for so long. I enjoyed it. I cherished every second I could pretend that she loved me enough.

The fighting began when my burden took over. I bore the worst secret. A secret so severe that it potentially could’ve ruined our friendship. Then, it eventually did. I still carry it with me. I bear it proudly. In my necklace.

We argued; frequently and fantastically alluringly well. It lives to alarm me how the yelling of invectives came to our mouths. Clearly I was the instigator moreover. Usually, the great debater. Though rarely the victor. Always was I apologetic. When the roles reversed, I easily forgave. She was normally over it before I had a chance to organize.

Except—

—there was one time. It’s impossible to explain. And it’s so forgotten yet profound within me. I sincerely doubt she ever took it as personally as I did. I was the sensitive one. I still am. She could walk away and not blink an eye but I would hide and depress for days.

I was the one with the cheating problems. She could never understand how easily I two-timed someone I was in a relationship with. She almost used to get mad at me for it. Then I just let it go. I made a change and stopped. I wonder if she noticed sometime before she died.

When she died, if she thought of me at all, did she think of the good? We had amazing times: our laughter, our talks, our understanding, and our experiences. Or did she focus on that one last fight? That one thing that split us apart and now the chance to mend is gone forever.

“Rie, how you holding up?”

I shrug. Lucy was my best friend other than her. Jessie was, too. It had always been four. Now it’s three.

“You need a hug?” she quietly asked, opening her arms.

“I need her” I weep and collapse into Lucy; my mother figure.

I can sense Jessie rubbing my back soothingly, but it doesn’t soothe.
Nothing can relieve this.

My mother was plagued with bad choices in parenting and marriage. She was un-constant in my life. We went through so much for our “family” that we ended up without one. When I needed a parent to hold me, Lucy was there. She pushed me to do my homework and study. She always gave me honest answers. She calculated responses that would set my ideas aflame. I loved her as I loved the Belle in the Casket—on a different level. When I would whine and complain about her towards the culmination of our un-lasting relationship, Lucy said “give her time, Give her space.”

And I did.

So I did.

And then I lost her. Now, I’ve lost her for good. She’s passed away. Maybe she’s in heaven, though she proclaimed atheism for the majority of her time on earth. As did I, for a short period. However, I could not drag my feet to her funeral if I didn’t have faith she was in a better place; a higher origin. Religion was something that first brought us together—well, sort of.

Sophomore year in high school around January, I ended up in her religion class. We were anti-Catholics together. Our lack of beliefs drew us in. So when I gained a faith, I imagined I would confuse her norm for a bit. If only she cared as much, eh.

Krystal.

Her name is unique. When I think of it—I imagine how pretty of a name it is and what that name means to me. It’s impossible to tell someone. But that name doesn’t mean anything but nirvana to me. She was the ultimate peace. The ultimate risk I took. And the ultimate loss. The ultimate pain. Simply ultimate.
We were total and absolute opposites. No pair ever more diverse than we. She was tall, I was not. She had dark hair, I did not. She reveled in sciences and mathematics; I enjoyed history and language arts. French culture and Canadian blood was in her, while I was a mutt of heritages with no particular ties to any of them. As I’ve mentioned, her color was purple. Mine has and always will be green.

“You need to know that she loved you,”
Lucy and Jessie assure me. “All the way till the end”

They believe those words can ease the sorrow, but it’s been hollow for too long. I shake with tears and sob for loss chances as we embrace tightly. They were her best friends, but I’m the most affected. I had more at stake in the relationship. I loved her with more passion than a friend could. Perhaps that scared her. I look up for a minute and see Jessie’s face with no smile. This is new.

Jessie was a dissimilar saga than Lucy by far. Jess could be “mommy” sometimes. She was my ray of sunshine; A hippie in everyway except “hashing”. Jessie’s mere presence is enough to always make someone grin in rainbow bliss. She seemed unfazed by the bad stuff. One word: un-corruptible. Like Rebecca Nurse. Yet, today they both begin to shed tears.

During the last stand between Krystal and I—the Belle in the Casket and the one who only wanted to love her—Lucy spent hours discussing with me.

“You think with your heart, she uses her head.
You trust too much, she doesn’t at all”

Basically correct. When I first fell in love with Krystal, it was when she opened up to me. She told me how much she had loved her stepmother; a love I could never gain. She had idolized and emulated her. That was her role model, inspiration, and confident. She trusted her with her heart. When her step mom was killed in a fatal car accident, Krystal was devastated. And when she informed me—I felt for her. When it happened, I wasn’t around. And I always hated that I couldn’t be there for her. I thought I did pretty good with supporting her on anniversaries, birthdays, and death days, but it’s never enough when someone you love lost someone they loved. But that was why Krystal never got close to people—it hurts her when it stops. But I would never stop listening, or caring, or loving. And I would never leave unless she made me. Like she eventually did.

I was a different story.

Lucy is the one who first discovered. Now I say it proudly. I never knew the love for a parent mirroring what Krystal had with Dana. And I would always be searching for it in all my relationships. I gave out trust like free samples. When people were interested in the product I thought I had what I wanted. Krystal cared. She was interested. And I loved her for it. To her credit, when I told her something was wrong with me, she always responded. Even when we were fighting and it seemed over—I know she cared. And that stays alive in me. Without that thread of hope, I would die. Cause I’d die without her. Now that keeps me going. Everyday and every second without her.

—Lucy and Jessie never needed to tell me that she always loved me.
Because I always knew.

When I fell for the Belle in the Casket, I wanted it returned. Love requited. It took me months to uncover and weeks to share the burden with her. That was the hardest thing.
I could have lost her then. Instead, I received months more of her precious time and our days together extended. I guess that was luck.

“It doesn’t change anything.
You’re my best friend and I like it that way”
She told me.

My hearts jumps when I recall those text messages. I had been so eager for her to not leave me, that I accepted anything. I never realized that I would want her to love me back. I was glad to go back to normal, but with her now aware of my secret. What I didn’t know is that I would grow to yearn for change.

I wanted Krystal LaBelle to fall madly in love with me. Then, I knew the cheating would end forever and I could make her happy. I never asked for the gross and sexual implications of a relationship with her. I just wanted the luxury, the gift, of calling her my girlfriend, hold her hand, and the ability to kiss her when she acted adorable, or just when I felt like it. Sometimes, I could do all that in jest. And sometimes I took it too far so she would stop me. Maybe that’s where our last argument stemmed from.

Lucy and Jessie release me. I could see other seemingly familiar faces at the service Mikael, Jacob, Kat, Aidan, and even Bob, her ex. Her mom was there with her brother. Her father, his new wife, and all her relatives I’d heard countless stories of during our friendship. All faces are mourning. I understood their pain. I felt it so much. I almost walked away.

I could never forgive myself if I left right now. She was my best friend. I loved the girl with everything I had. And I won’t leave now. She didn’t ask me to yet. Then I realize; she can’t because she’s dead. And I will never have the chance to push her into talking to me. In my mind, I always relive the day I gave her space.

During our final straw, she said I obsess. I can’t disagree, it’s true. Not just with her. And not to a stalker level. I mean that. I never stalked Krystal. I never had to. If she ever said that I was creepy obsessive then I’d kill myself now.

I have an obsessive personality. That simply means that when I extremely enjoy something (movie, place, person, activity, etc.)—I make it my world. That’s what I did. I based my life solely around Krystal. So, I’m not surprised, really, that she freaked out in the end. I just wasn’t expecting it to happen. Ever. I never understood that it bothered her when I loved her. I still don’t. I choose not to nowadays. She was my best friend. I let all those chances, decisions, and opportunities fade. Now, they’re being lowered into the ground with the Belle in the Casket.

Krystal was such a huge influence in my life. The cause of heartache and pain but also the angel to thank when life can’t get any better. I miss that now. I always will feel the void.

Watching the lowering of the Casket carrying my Belle makes my heart twinge with regret. I could have pushed more. But everyone told me not to. She needed space. Well, she would get her god damn space now. I could not possibly be further away from her. In death, we’re separated. In her death, I died.

She was my best friend, my love, my confident, and my reason for smiling on a day that makes you cry. She was my world. She was a part of me. She was. She’s not anymore.

I never understood heartbreak. I had dated before. But then the breakup commenced, I never sobbed; I never cared. I was never so emotionally attached to anyone as I was with Krystal. I guess that’s what some of the problem was during our final argument. But in my other relationships, I was not the one left in tears. I was the one who could leave. Not anymore.

When we had that last fight, we broke up forever. And the immense dissatisfaction consumed me. Not so much her, but because the Belle I had loved was telling me to fuck off. All I can say is Apocalypse. My world was trashed. And though we didn’t know it then—it would be forever. So the casket has fallen, and Jessie, Lucy and I squeeze hands and digress that she’s too young for this. We all lost someone. But did we really? She’s not gone forever if she lives in our minds, actions, and in our hearts, right?

Apart or together, I love her same.
Blinded by the pain.
She dies, I die
Mutter to a passerby
“Somebody died,
I’m not sure who”
Not one funeral, But two.


The End.

Silly Shoes

Today is what we call "Chill Out and Think Friday"

cause thats what is up. Krystal and i got into a pretty horrible fight last night. In my opinion, the absolute worst. It starts with her not telling me something that is classified as a big deal. she didnt tell me. and that hurt. cause i found out from her old best friend which made me feel like shit.

So i start talking to her about it. And honestly, i cannot remember everything about it. I only saved parts of the convo for Jessie, but i wish i hd more. cause everything that i said was really really mean and i shouldnt have said it to my best friend.

but i wasnt the only on and im not taking the blame for this fight when i didnt do anything wrong except maybe keep it going (which she was just oh so happy to comply)

its so fucked up. Cause she basically said she never tells me anything like that beause i'll tell everyone or completely ruin it. Then i talk to Jessie and she says the same thing. like....wow. everyone seems to dislike the way i am. sucky.

So i end up crying a lot because the strangest thing---we went from like...me being the sensitive one whos feelings were hurt to krystal just being completely different. Like, saying i dont care. Saying that she just wanted to have fun when we started talking about the secret. Just---weird stuff you wouldnt expect from her.

And i cant recall how many times i was told to "shut the fuck up" and that i was "acting like a complete bitch". but im telling you now, that im not gonna deal with her like this all the time. We'll stop being friends if thats the case. Honestly. It would kill me, but I'd do it.

And she called me a drama queen and said that i wallow in my misery. I hate her so much right now. you have no idea. and it's like...i cant help that i dont think she cares sometimes. thats not my fault, but when she tries to say that mariah doesnt care....its like.....wow. fuck you too.

and it feels absolutely horrible. and i was so pissed all night, i couldnt sleep. i couldnt stop thinking about seeing her tomorrow and not punching her in the face.

so i faked sick last night...and my mom believed it. so this morning hen i said i didnt wanna go to school---i didnt have to. sometimes, either im too brilliant or they're far too stupid...how could she believe that?

anyways, i wasnt ready to see krystal. so i've spent today just calming down, thinking about how shes my best friend no matter what, and that maybe i do need a little change if all my friends cant stand that part of me. I dont wanna end up like the one person who used to be our friend...now we arent her friends at all and we tend to get pissed, annoyed, or irritated lately. Thats like...a worse fear. and i cant help that small inecurity that krystal is gonna go be friends with kelly again and leave me with nobody. it also doesnt help that i care for krystal wayy to much...and wayy more than i know she cares about me. and im okay with that.

but...thats what toay is for. No, im not "scared" of her. No, im not a pussy. I just---wanted a day to myself for cooling off and doing some self restoration cause i took a huge blow last night.

maybe im a little better.
but i dont wanna go to the band activity tomorrow morning.
i'll be forced to spend hours with her.
No, i dont wanna go to the practice session after.
Cause im not ready to make up.
And i sure as hell dont want her to drive me to work like we were planning on. cause no way am i going in a car with her. she'll kill me. and it'll be awkward. and plus, im pissed as fuck at her and i dont wanna. and she wont want me too either. which pisses me off too.

god dammit.
this just plain old suck ass.

Party Hard, Rock n Roll

New years was fuckin crazy. lots of fun with people i would never have seen myself with last new years. not a chance.

differences since last new years? my hair...its dark now. my height...ive grown a quarter of an inch. my pants size....im a six now instead of a nine/eleven. my boyfriend----last january i was hooked on jordan...yucky. my friends...last year i hung around with Jamilla, Kaleigh, and Mina. shoot me. i still llove my Kaleigh to death. and Milla will always be my girl but lord forgive the day i met that hispanic bitch. sports? none. GPA? N/A. Jobless. This was a rough time last year---so much was going on i couldnt deal. Around this time last year my mom woulda been preparing to leave town for 3 weeks which turned into 3 months.lol. i met my best friends around this time, too. and switched into krystals religion class.

damn. lol.

guard practice continues monday as well as school. Ries grades? havent checked and im not gonna. save me these few days of accomplishment! work is alright...so is jacob. tings are pretty much tank right now. and im enjoying it

ready for 08? u fuckin bet.