The Way She Taught Me To

     The golden sun slowly rose above the horizon, like a shy maiden peeking through. It was a magnificent sight. The sun looked as if it were beaming strong and fiercely in all its grandeur. The fury, bright red faded out into orange …and finally just the plain white sky, save for the slight tint of yellow. I couldn't remember how long it had been since I had last seen a sunrise.

     I stood up and glanced down. Atop the hill, where the birds merrily chirped, the lush green grass seemed to spread out forever; I couldn't even see the end of it. It was still moist with dew, and I could still smell the sweetness of it. I could feel the soft gentle touch of the breeze and its whisper in my ears. They seemed to say "Denise…Denise…" How long had it been since I last experienced this?

     What a perfect way to start a day, but yet I sighed deeply. I sighed for the precious golden years of my life that had been wasted; for the beautiful scene that was right in front of me, that someday all these would be perish as all good things would naturally come to an end; I sighed for nature's works which would one day be all destroyed; I sighed for Denise and the life that was taken out of her.

     Where do I start? One thing leads to another, perhaps what happened was the result of the accumulation over the years. It was a big mistake, and one that would cost me my innocence, golden years and conscience.

    We were best friends ever since I could remember. But I remember clearly, that from young, I was always jealous of her in some way or another. I was perpetually blaming her for my mum's nagging; Mum always compared me to her, that I was more stupid, less talented and less diligent. Perhaps these were all true, but it really hurt me to think that my mum could actually put me down, and praise another girl who was not her own flesh and blood.

     From young I had always lived in her shadow. She was always Miss Popularity, Miss Brainy, Miss Beauty…whereas I, I was only the sidekick. That uneasy feeling about her surfaced frequently, but each time I would suppress it and push it back down to a small corner of my mind and try to forget about it. It got harder and harder each time. But what could I do? She was my best friend. I loved her for the wonderful things that she had brought into my life. She had given me a lot. She taught me how to become a better person; she taught me patience; she brought joy and laughter; and she showed me how it was to try; she taught me how to get up on my feet again after a fall. She was my best friend, confidante and like a mother to me. But yet in many ways she angered me so; she made me feel so miserable. I was always nowhere compared to her; I did not even come close. I felt that everybody demanded too much out of me. I was incapable of a lot of things that Denise would have done easily. I was weak and she was strong, but that fateful day, it was as if some unseen force had given me the power, the courage and the strength to cause such a tragedy.

     I guess I was not in the right frame of mind. But at that time, I felt so much hatred for her that I was blinded by it. Get rid of her and you'll have problems no more…it was that voice which spoke, that very sentence that made me commit such a sin. I could take it no more, furthermore there was no one around and it did not take a lot to push her over the lengthy flight of stairs - she was a small girl.

     She fell into a coma, and died a week after. I could have gotten away with the crime; there was no evidence to prove that it was foul play. But my conscience wouldn't let me; every breath I took I had to be sure that nobody was watching me. I was in constant fear that perhaps someone had seen what I had done. Or that Denise's ghost would come at night to haunt me. No, I couldn't live that way. Not forever. I had done wrong and I had to face the music. I turned myself in.

     What happened after that was a daze. It seemed as though the court case never existed; that I had never been indicted and was just thrown into jail. A blur, a part of my life whizzing past right before my very eyes; I couldn't remember anything about it at all.

     While in prison I had a lot of time to myself. I did lots of soul-searching, and I prayed to God for forgiveness. I cried every night just to get to sleep, and even till now, my conscience is still unclear and what I did, as just a little action which had taken my best friend's life, still weighs heavily on my mind. I'd never be able to forget it; how can I? Jail has made me a better person, but it doesn't erase what I had done; nor does it make me feel any better. Even if I were to spend my entire life in jail, it wouldn't make up for the pain and hurt I had caused Denise's parents and friends; it wouldn't have reversed the fact that Denise was dead and gone, and that she would never come back again.

     I cried softly, as I thought of it again. I thought of the books unread, pages unflipped, clothes unworn and friends unmade. I thought about the future and plans that were well-laid for Denise even before she had graduated. The scholarships, the honour…I thought of the past, our happy times together and her adolescent glory of being the top scorer, the fastest sprinter. I cried for myself and the unforgivable sin that I had committed and how my life was ruined, as was Denise's. I cried and I asked for forgiveness.

     The sun was now high up in the sky, burning and raging ferociously. I glanced towards the blue, blue sky and for a moment I saw Denise's face up in the sky, among the clouds, smiling at me and waving. She was saying something, but I couldn't hear her. But her eyes told me that she had forgiven me.

     As I raised my head towards the sky again, she was no longer there. Then I realized that it was only the tears in my eyes. Wiping those tears away, I started down the hill, along the winding path, not knowing where it would take me.

     I was standing up again, after a bad fall. The way Denise had taught me to.

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