I remember the first day she told me she wanted to kill herself. I want to say that it alarmed and frightened me, but somehow I had known it all along. It had to have been the way she looked at me that eased a sense of horror into my mind. Her eyes had been zipped shut, laced together with the lashes that sat on the edges of their lids. Only when she opened them did I recognize that a glaze of water glossed their surface. It showed like a reflection pool, so still hardly anybody could notice it. Normally, I wouldn’t care to look into her terror-filled eyes. We had no ways of communicating to each other through them. In fact, pure shock caused me to gaze.
That moment paralyzed me, since I had never seen those hazel diamonds dilated. Her dry, pale pink lips pursed to the point where she practically stifled. The thin ghostly skin that her body tended to slip into started to wear off from her immense shaking. She drew an image upon herself that categorized her among the walking dead.
Although my friend had become troubled with nervous reactions, I couldn’t help but to wonder what thoughts ran through her head. One thing that she never understood is how delicate life is. She only knew that once you lose it, there is no way of you replacing it.
Jasey is my best friend. I don’t care what any person on this planet has to say about that. She is and she always will be. Yes, we didn’t always get along and yes, we both had our share of mistakes. Two completely different people are bound to have arguments every once in a while. I am fully aware that she didn’t do things the way people originally intended them to be done, but that defined her. In my opinion, she never let somebody tell her how to live her life. Maybe I needed that from her. Most of the time it seemed like I let her act as my conscious; some say the arrangement consisted of the controlling puppeteer and me, the weak, helpless puppet. I always looked at it differently, as if she would fight the battles and I stayed the coward behind her. But if anything at all, Jasey should be remembered as my courageous and caring best friend.
If that day didn’t change my life, I don’t know what day did. That was definitely the highlighting point of my “transformation” into hysteria. Every detail of that night is still clear in my head. Silence spoke for us, causing me to stare into dark night sky. The Pennsylvanian weather decided to be perfect for such an awful night. My stomach ached, for I could not come up with any words to respond with.
“Please say something,” Jasey gasped. She attempted to hold her breath until she’d elicit a word from me. I drifted my gaze back at her for moments longer and then drew my eyes away. She bit her lip so aggressively I swore she would have torn it off.
“Why?” I whispered softly, closing my eyes in utter disappointment. I tried to hold back the river that began to flood my eyes though nothing could stop the water works. But If Jasey wasn’t crying I didn’t want to cry either. Thinking about losing one thing that means the most to you in this world is one of the hardest things to accomplish, even if it hasn’t happened yet. No one in their right mind would want to think about losing a loved one.
After several hesitations of looking up at me and staring shyly back to the pavement, she inhaled heavily with her mouth exhaled lightly through her nose.
“You have a purpose here, Kiersten. You have friends and talents and a family and I’ll never have any of that,” She spoke exaggeratingly, emphasizing each word. Her lips sealed for a moment as she shook her head in denial. “I will never become something that you will be one day, and you’ll just leave me behind like everyone else has.”
“Shut up, Jasey, I have no more than you do.” I began as I stared her down with distain. We were both shocked at the emotion I held strongly, but I couldn’t get myself to let go of it for that purpose. It frustrated me that she always thought into the future. “You can’t always get what you want and when you don’t you act like it’s the end of the world.”
She stared at me softly and grimaced. Her purple snakebites that punctured her bottom lip rested on the tips of her teeth like a cushion, distracting her from biting that lip. In deep thought she stood up stiffly and looked up at the sky, trying to give herself more time to think without seeming desperate for it. As her eyes roamed around the scattered stars I slowly stood up next to her and patted my old denim jeans for articles of dust to shed off, nervously attempting to break the silence. In an instant she reached out and took my hand, pointed my index finger and said:
“There, right there. That’s the little dipper,” She let go of my hand after a few seconds but acknowledged that I keep it there. “Now follow the handle of the dipper and look at the brightest star you see,” Angry that she left the subject we were on, I used my hand to slowly guide myself along the handle and down to the brightest star at the end of the path.
“Now what,” I sighed, pointing to the last star on the handle. At first I faltered to look at her, but when I did I noticed that she smiled through the tears she let run out of her eyes.
“That, my friend, is the north star,” She cried. Emotions that could control her always fascinated me, for Jasey was not one to cry in public. Crying made her feel more vulnerable to society, in her words. Stars stood to be the weak point of Jasey; I am the only one who ever knew why.
Her mom adored studying about astrology and taught Jasey everything she knew about it. The two of them connected on the subject so easily because they both shared a highly developed interest for it. Their mother daughter relationship couldn’t compare to anyone else’s, their unique bond exceeded everyone’s. But thinking of her mom was something Jasey hated to do and tried to avoid. Regrettably, Jasey would constantly have flashbacks of the moment her mom got into a freak car accident and died, even though Jasey wasn’t in the car with her.
She found out about the incident at school in the middle of eighth grade during gym class. The front office had sent a security guard to the class to tell her that he needed to escort her out, but good Ol’ Jasey was reluctant. Arguments spilled out from both of their mouths until the guard's frustration made him say the reason why she had to leave. I remember her face draining completely of its natural color and redesigning itself in a light green shade. As a first instinct she sprinted past the guard out of the gymnasium and outside of the school building. Later she told me she ran right through the woods that sat behind the school and just kept running, no matter how badly the thorn bushes cut her. The police officers that had been sent to find her didn’t know Jasey’s tactics of hiding and could not find the internally hurt child. I got home from school that day crying, about to tell my mom what had happened. I walked into the living room to find her already crying with Jasey sitting right next to her.
I grabbed hold of her arm and stared at the North Star with her. Continuing to smile she leaned her head against my shoulder, resembling a sign of comfort. Our height difference worked like that; she could lay her head of pink hair against my shoulder since I stood taller. When she didn’t want to use words she showed actions to explain how she felt.
“What’s the actual name of it?” I asked still staring at the bundle of fluorescent pink hair lying against me. If I had a dime for every time she had told me the name of that star I’d have been rich, but I kept asking because I knew how happy it made her to say some of the knowledge her mother had built up in that sturdy head of hers.
“Polaris,” She said calmly as she continued to star gaze. I believed she had forgotten the whole point of us meeting up on my driveway that night. Honestly, I no longer cared. I decided that I didn’t want to talk about her killing herself. Besides, I knew she wouldn’t do it. There was no reason to. She would always have me, and I would always have her.
“Polaris,” I repeated, “Makes me think of polar bears,” She guffawed loud enough that her own embarrassment caused her to lift her hand over her mouth to hide the noise, which made me smile. Whenever I got to hear The Jasey Laugh it made my day.
“Which, you know, are dying,” She stated sarcastically, flinging her arms around. We laughed along for a little bit, noticing the clouds rolling into the dark sky. I tugged at her arm so that we could go inside, but her head shook silently.
“How come?” I questioned, recognizing her eyes that were set on Polaris. Many times I would wonder what she thought about. That’s all I ever wondered actually, because she never clearly stated her thoughts. I stood still facing her so that she would be forced to mirror my act.
“Bill and Ronda are probably worrying about me,” She resorted to saying. We both knew that wasn’t true. After shrugging my shoulders I nodded my head and jilted it, directing her to her house. Bill and Ronda were Jasey’s foster parents, yet they had no care in the world for her. For all of the time I’d known Jasey, I knew she would never want to go home because of them. She stood as firm as a statue until I finally got the hint she tried to give. I offered her to spend the night at my house. She smiled endearingly and hugged me.
“What would I do without you?” She asked as she snuggled her head against my shoulder.
What’s funny about what she said is that I had always pondered it myself. With me, she was completely fine. But that made me wonder what our lives would be like apart from each other. The reality of it is that we were so dependent on one another. When you see someone you care so much about fall to pieces before your very eyes, you wonder if it’s possible to put the pieces back together. I feel like Jasey was never whole to begin with.
Jasey and I always had a race to my bedroom. Though an unusual competition, we took it as a challenge upon one another. Once we got into the garage we would dart into the kitchen, past my parents, up the stairs, down the hallway and into my bedroom. Jasey beat me most of the time, though sometimes I let her win, and then she would plop onto my bed and just lay flat on her stomach.
That night I gave up on running when she beat me to the hallway, so when I walked in and closed the door behind me she continued with her routine. This time, she lifted the lid to my laptop and started to type steadfast.
“You know, most people consider it rude to use other people’s things without asking,” I said in a monotone voice, mocking our history teacher Mr. Klinger. She ignored the comment and continued to move her finger with intensity. Before I could get another word in, her fingers stopped on the keyboard as if an adhesive had kicked in.
“Look, they’re in town next week.” She said, gawking at the computer screen in awe. I decided to question her statement even though I knew who she was talking about.
“Who?” I asked leaning against my white wall. She laughed to herself and looked up at me to make sure I was making a joke. I winked at her to show her that I kidded.
“One day I’m going to meet them,” She insisted, nodding her head to herself in agreement. “And if I don’t you are going to make them write a letter to me when you see them next, promise?”
“I’ve met them once, but yeah I promise,” I replied to settle her nerves down. She pouted her lips and glided her tongue along her snake bites in attempt to calm herself.
Jasey’s favorite band was Reasons Being. When we were in sixth grade, they became our obsessions. At the age of twelve, her mom had renamed her after their first hit single, Jasey Maria. Jasey’s real name, named by her father, titled her as Agnus. I believe she said it named her after his mother. Although she and I both prefer Jasey over Agnus, the original name had been the only reminder of her father.
“That’s one more time than I have,” She stated sorrowfully, staring back at the screen for the tour dates. I always had a few more friends than Jasey did, most likely because people were scared to talk to her.
In the sense of how we presented ourselves, people preferred to approach me over Jasey. I would let my brown hair hang past my elbows so that the little ringlets that formed at the bottom would bounce with the beat of my walk. Occasionally I wore band logo shirts and sometimes even sweats, though my daily style reflected the bohemian era. Colorful and flowing clothing always suited my taste. To differ from Jasey, I usually never enhanced my face with makeup because I felt my caramel eyes would stand out too much. Being five foot seven while Jasey stood only five foot four, I would always wear flats or Converse shoes.
Jasey dressed with a look that seemed rebellious, but in actuality, she was so much more kind and pleasing to be around than most people are. Jasey had bright pink hair, purple snake bites, a diamond stud nose ring, and five piercings in each ear. She either wore exotic bright colored shirts and pants or dark hoodies along with the tightest skinny jeans she could buy. She always had her earphones in during school, one hanging out of the one ear while the other stayed in snug. Her makeup was heavy, her hair was teased, and she rarely smiled around anyone but me. It was intimidating at first I must admit. I guess I had known Jasey for such a long time that the progression grew on me.
The point of stating that I had been the more approachable person was to be able to say that the only reason I met Reasons Being is because I had more acquaintances. One of my other close friends Jenna invited me to take a trip out of state to meet them at a signing. I went along and got their newest album signed. Under certain terms, I am as big of a fan as Jasey always had been. At that time in life, I could have never told her that I appreciated them more. Frankly, they’ll always mean more to her.
“You’ve seen them in concert so many more times than I have, Jasey.” I stated.
“But that’s not meeting them,” She sighed while twirling her hair and dreamily gazing at the screen. I rolled my eyes to come up with a solution to her depressed era.
“I’ll tell you what,” I finally said, approaching her and sitting next to her on my bed. “We’ll go. I’ll get my parents to drive and I’ll buy the tickets for your birthday; if and only if, you get an A on your next geometry test coming up.” I tried really hard to give Jasey a reason to improve her grades all the time. Nothing seemed important enough to make her help herself. The concert tickets were a perfect plan to give her something to work for. She stared at me for a moment, debating the decision, and then smiled slightly.
“I’ll make it happen. Anything to see them,” She hugged me tightly for a minute. Jasey didn’t enjoy physical embracing, which made me happy that she did it a lot with me. I guess in a way, you could say we made each other feel safe. That’s just how we were. Jasey and I are best friends.
I got into pajamas while Jasey took off her jacket. She usually slept in her jeans and undershirt so it didn’t bother her if I examined her arms. My eyes narrowed at Jasey; she revealed several scars when she took off her jacket.
“How many,” I asked. She looked at me with lifted eyebrows and eyes of bewilderment, but when I glanced down at her arms again she sighed and started to count. To my surprise, it took a very long time.
“One hundred and two,” She whispered, staring at her feet.
“I don’t want any more added onto that, or no concert.” I responded. My anger wasn’t worth releasing that night; she seemed to be in a decent mood. She nodded her head instantly and understandingly.
“To make sure I don’t, write love on my arm.” She insisted with a smile, pointing to the sharpie on my bureau.
People around our school did this to prevent others from cutting themselves. What they would do, is take a pen or marker and write the word love on someone’s wrist. To write love on someone’s arm made an attempt to help them put faith in themselves and promise not hurt themselves if they were dealing with a problematic situation. Jasey always felt negative about herself, and so she always ended up in that situation.
I grabbed the sharpie from my bureau and wrote out love in big letters across her left wrist. She smiled, kissed her wrist and got under the covers of my bed. Usually we would share, but to prove my disappointment in her I slept on the floor. Recognizing how upset I was, she turned her back to me.
Sometimes in her sleep, Jasey would whimper in remembrance of her mom or another tragic event that occurred in her life. She would like to sleep next to me to feel safe, but I wanted to make a point that night.
“Sometimes I wonder if anyone is listening,” She whispered around midnight. I ignored her though, and fell asleep.