The world as we knew was collapsing before our eyes. Slowly without us being able to do anything to prevent it. Our free will was taken away from us. We became puppets, controlled by a higher power. All we wanted was to escape, to cut the threads th...
The last memory I have of Frida started with cleaning and ended in the church. We who lived in the same room had the task of tidying up the dining room. Beatrice took it upon herself to dust, I vacuumed and Frida mopped the floor. The woman who shared the room with us stood at the counter. Laughing, Frida followed my steps with the mop, we worked well as a team. She teasingly pushed the mop against my feet and I playfully jumped away. Everything felt so easy for a while. But when I emptied the vacuum cleaner bag and Frida the scrub water in the toilet, we came back to reality.
- Are you going to church today? she said with her back to me.
- Of course, I replied as usual. It always made her smile with her teeth.
Beatrice wiped her forehead with her arm behind us. I met her gaze and wondered if she would come along.
- To church? she said as she threw the rag into the sink. No way.
It wasn't the first time I'd asked her and not the first time she'd given such a deviant answer. My bottom lip went up and I looked hurt at her.
- You never follow, Beatrice laughed in response.
After the service, Frida and I remained in the bench. It had become a little tradition that we stayed behind like this. A moment only we had together. Today that man come up to us. He who expresses himself homophobic and then collapses. He barely dared to look Frida in the eyes of shame when he asked for forgiveness.
- I regretted everything I said, he bent down in front of us as if in a bow.
I looked wide-eyed at Frida. A pride in front of my friend filled my heart. She in turn put a hand on the man's shoulder and accepted his forgiveness.
- I am so grateful for you, she said with a smile.
It almost looked like the man was going to cry before he left. A need to pull her close to me caused her to end up in my arms. With my cheek against her, I told her how happy I was to witness what had just happened. Her face was completely red when I let her go. Embarrassed by the compliment.
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Suddenly I realized my impulsive act and looked down. In retrospect, I never regretted my hug. Not when I remembered how happy it seemed to make her. Now I cried over that memory. And sincerely hoped she never stopped standing up for what she believed in. It was people like her who could change the world's view of things. People like her and Mikael. I smiled wistfully at the thought.
After a while I asked her about God and the devil.
- Do you believe in hell? I wondered with my eyes on the ceiling.
- Of course. I believe in heaven and hell. Angels and Demons. Everything has its opposites.
After a while we started talking about demons. Frida was always willing to explain her point of view on things. And I soaked up every word she said
