Prologue
‘Once given, it’s destroyed. If no one has it, yours will eat you up inside. It may be shallow, it may be deep. For all I know, it’s mine to keep. But beware; it can end you in a heartbeat. Do you, even in your wildest dreams, know what I’m talking about?’
Dear Elliot,
23rd February 2018
Leah, you always had a way with words. I never really could understand your deep, real thought thinking quite many times. I would have even suggested you to be writer only if you weren’t so persuasive about going behind your dream, your passion, journalism. Leah, you had always been a Shakespearean person, teaching me words like ‘cat’ and ‘bat’ since we were five, while I was at the depths of Pythagoras and Aryabhatta , telling you how to do ‘4 x 5’.
Journalism was a bad idea. A bad career choice, as far as I knew. But who was I to mess with your heart and not support you in your decision to be a journalist, I had told myself the day you announced that you’d be going to New York. But I was wrong. I was your best friend, I could easily tell you that. I could’ve broken your heart back then, but I at least could’ve saved you from where you are right now, couldn’t I? But what would mourning get now, I can’t reverse the past, and as they say, we mustn’t cry over spilt milk.
You were always the one who caused trouble, Leah. Going around, causing mischief in the town, you were known for that. My mother said, old habits die hard, and in some cases, never. Is that your case? I wouldn’t know about that, but there’s one thing I do know, that no matter how many times you got and get in trouble, you would never leave the law’s right side, always being truthful.
‘Honest storm’, that’s what my mother called you. Remember? The day you broke one of her plates when we were young and even though you could hide it, lie about it, deny the fact that you did it, did you? Nope. You didn’t. You told her the truth, and got what in return, a cookie, which we shared in half.
I ask you, I question you to tell me where you are. Where has the Leah, who never lied, has gone because the one that I say when I woke on the day on New Year was not her. She was a deceitful, untrustworthy, cunning witch who had possessed my best friend and had taken her in a world full of betrayal and dishonesty.
Leah- Leandra Arthur Crossbow, the girl who became the homecoming queen. The girl who made the front page twice. Once for taking up the cleaning drive initiative and second by getting caught with a few others, vandalizing the school property. The girl who was the sweet queen bee, the girl who won a scholarship to Columbia University and joined the New York Times. The girl who used to be my best friend.
We were not what they call the polar opposites, instead we were absolute same in almost everything. From our ice cream flavors to clothes that we bought, we made the same choices everywhere. Even though our nature didn’t match, but our decisions made us seem meant to be. Heck, even our surnames, Crossbow and Arrows, matched. Who wouldn’t think of us to be best friends for life?
No one.
That’s right. No one thought that we could not be friends. They said that we were sisters by heart. But no, they were all wrong, so very wrong. Sister’s don’t abandon each other, they don’t leave each other and go away. Because that’s easy. Running away is easy, what’s tough is staying and fighting. But, you Leah-no Elliot, are so damn gutless. You are a spineless, selfish coward who only cares about herself. But Leah, she wasn’t like that, you know? Or maybe you don’t. Leah was naughty, I must say, but was a selfless, valiant person who cared about others before her.
Have you ever lost someone, Elliot? No. I know that because if you knew that, you wouldn’t do that to me. You wouldn’t take away the most precious person of my life-my best friend, Leah. But you, you killed her. You know how it feels to go to sleep with a sweet honest best friend who cares about you on the other side of the phone and waking up with nothing.
You were just gone. Little did I know, that searching for would just lead me to selfish, cunning b!tch who had killed my best friend. You may look her, you may be her on the outside, but inside, you are not the Leah I know because, it is just you, Elliot. Losing you, the last person I had who understood me, felt no just hurt, but it felt empty, as if death had spread its arms to me, you’d know about that, right?
By the way, where did you get the idea of the name, Elliot Archer. I’m talking about the surname ‘Archer’. Form a Bow to an Archer, the resemblance still there. Maybe that’s because you realize, no matter how hard you try to run, your past, the good you will catch up. So I tell you Leah, don’t run, don’t hide. You are kind, and kindness doesn’t go away like that. You won’t be able to go away from me, or yourself. And I’m saying this not because I’m coming to get you, but because I will not give up on you. Because you are worth it, you are worth everything in this and because I miss you.
Come back home. Our home. The tree house over the edge of Fawlers Forest, remember?
Return. I miss you.
Love,
Faith.
