That's When The Light Died In Her Eyes.

We fill our minds with fear then get surprised when our hearts get broken, our bodies get beaten and our souls gets bruised.

Where am I?

I got out of my car, parked on the side of a random street. It was almost 4am and I could barely stand up straight let alone drive.

Jesus, I hope I have some clothes in the back. Despite how drunk I was, I could vividly remember how I ended up here with vomit on my dress.

I don't know what got over me, I don't know what drove me to say what I said to her. I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't mean it.

I found a hoodie and a pair of jeans in my trunk. I stripped off my dress and put on clean clothes.

God, the look in her eyes.

I had to go back. I left them. How could I leave them?

I got back in my car, praying the cops wouldn't stop me. It wasn't that far, just a few blocks away.

As I drove back, I thought of what I would say. Could I apologise?

I saw Leila walking down the street with Thomas and Celia.

Thomas must've offered to walk them back to our student residence.

"Hey!" they turned their heads towards me, Celia and Thomas waved me over, glad to see me. Probably relieved that they wouldn't have to walk back in the dark. Leila continued walking forward, whispering something to them under her breath.

I made a u-turn at the next traffic stop and followed after them.

"Guys, please, come in." with my window rolled down, I leaned over to talk to them. Leila wouldn't look at me. This was going to be hard.

They walked towards the gas station, perhaps they were calling for an Uber? I drove past them into the gas station and parked my car, getting out.

"Leila, please, just get in the car."

"Oh now you've had a change of heart, when you left us! You left us Vera!" She was screaming at the top of her lungs, causing all the other night crawlers at the station to stop and watch our encounter.

We were arguing in front of people again. There's only so much I can take. The thought that all these strangers would have this idea of me as a volatile person is unbearable. Because the person I was a few minutes ago is nothing like who I am.

I care about what people think.

"I'm sorry."

Celia walked up to me, giving me a hug while Thomas got into the passenger seat. Leila stood at the curb, watching the other two get in the car. She shook her head and turned, walking away.

"Leila. Come on, it's too late for this." Thomas grumbled tilting his head back against the car seat.

"We can talk about everything tomorrow." Celia urged with her sweet voice. Nothing worked, Leila continued walking away.

I ran after her, calling her name, apologising. She continued to ignore me.

"Leila, get in the fucking car!" the sound of my own voice surprised me, scared me even. It was another version of myself that I didn't recognise. It felt as if everyone around me was startled, as if my voice echoed through the entire city. Whatever happened, however I managed to channel so much rage into one moment. Well, two moments actually.

It worked. She stopped, turned around and it was like she was looking at me for the first time.

In that moment, I was no longer the friend she could take advantage of. I was no longer the girl who said yes, who pleased, who'd take away from myself just to give to others. Maybe that was the reason for the fight earlier. Perhaps I'd pent up all this anger, all this subconscious frustration as a result of Leila's unending demands.

"Vera, give me a ride to the mall."

"Vera, let's go to your place."

"Vera, give my boyfriend a ride home."

"Vera, don't bite your nails."

"Don't eat that."

"You know you can't make it."

"I doubt you could do it."

"Come here."

"Go there."

"Do this."

I'd kept quiet, and justified it all up to it being her way of loving me. I'd once told her she'd reminded me of my mother. In the way she spoke about things, the way she connected with me. Naturally, that sort of thing would keep me away from her. I tended to steer clear of anything or anyone that reminded me of home.

But her mother was like mine. Hurtful, spiteful and unkind. Perhaps that's why she was drawn to me. I reminded her of her own mother in some strange, unforeseeable way.

Are we all just projections of our parents? Of their mindsets, their beliefs? 'Doomed is the child that's birthed into a broken home.' I pray for my sake and others, that it's not true.

"I'll never talk to you again." Leila finally walked past me towards my car and got into the back seat with Celia. I was just relieved that she got in the car so I could take them all home safely. Even though I was the reason they would be at risk, walking this late at night in this part of town.

We drove in silence. The usual joy and excitement that often accompanied our car trips were a memory now. I knew that once we got back to our college residence, our friendship would be over.

I knew we would never all hang out like this again. I was right. Thomas and Celia would greet me as I passed them by at school or in class. Leila wouldn't say a word.

I started hanging out with another group of friends from my drama class. Stoners, kind of hippy like. It was great, so different to when I'd hang out with Leila and the others. Instead of drinking, we'd smoke weed and reflect a lot on our childhood, our past. Talk of our dreams, debate wild conspiracy theories.

I'm writing this down now because I've learnt the power in facing my shame. Maybe by writing it down, I can begin to move on from it, I can begin to heal. Perhaps, even forgive myself.

Years have past, yet, I remember everything about that night. We got tickets to that event weeks in advance. We looked forward to it so much, we even went shopping together for outfits. We got ready in my room for hours, styling each others hair, doing each others makeup. Leila helped me with my eyeliner, she told me I had beautiful eyes.

The party was packed with high rollers. I remember the sounds of engines revving from the hood of their luxury shells. Lamboghini's, Porches, Aston Martins, you name it, it was being driven by some flashy man who got an ego boost out of showing off. Off course, I couldn't participate with my entry level VW polo. But we stood and watched and inhaled the fumes. Dreaming of the day when we would be the girls climbing out of the vehicles with their future bankrupt boyfriends.

I drank a lot that night, mostly because one of those flashy men, who probably had his car on a lease, took an interest in me. Offered me and my girls a table in VIP and bought us drinks.

I remember how he took me outside, said he wanted to talk.

He did more than talk.

I just wanted to go home you know? That's it. But when I got to my car, I was too drunk to even put the key in the ignition. My friends where still partying so I took a nap. Woke up a little while later to open the driver door and throw up in the parking basement and went back to sleep.

When I woke up, Leila was standing by the passenger door.

"Vera, get up. I'll drive."

"No, I just want to go home. Let's go."

"Jesus Christ, she's so drunk." Leila was talking to someone else, possibly Celia.

"We've been looking everywhere for you."

"What happened?"

"Are you okay?"

Too many people talking all at once. I was a little more sober, the sleep had helped. As I sat up, I could feel the ache between my legs.

"She always fucking does this! Dissapears without telling anyone. We literally spent hours looking for you!" Leila was shouting, the way my mother always would. For no reason, why couldn't she ever speak reasonably, gently.

"Why wouldn't you come to my car first. You know I always come to the car to sleep because you guys never want to go home." I grabbed the keys in my lap, managing to wiggle it into the ignition.

"No way, you're not driving. Get out!"

"No, I'm fine. I've driven drunk a hundred times. Just get in."

"I'm not getting in the car with you."

Celia was trying to reason with me. "Vera, just let one of us drive. it's not that big of a deal."

"It is when Leila's keeps barking orders at me like I'm her fucking child."

"Excuse me?"

I started the engine, "Are you getting in or not?"

"God, you're so messed up Vera."

"And what do you know? You act like you're so put together and happy when you can't even stand up to your own abusive mother. So you push around everyone else just so you can feel in control of something."

It didn't even make sense when I said it. But I said it. And it was when she slammed the door that I put the car in reverse and drove away.

We fill our minds with fear then get surprised when our hearts get broken, our bodies get beaten and our souls gets bruised. I was afraid of being a horrible person, which is why I tried so hard to make people happy, make them laugh, even a smile would do.

I didn't want to hurt anyone like my mother hurt me. I bet Laila felt the same way, she just went about it in her own way.

We didn't want to become our mothers.

Yet, it was this exact fear that led me on the same path as my mom. To be mean, spiteful and unkind. Maybe I didn't hurt Leila physically, but I broke her heart.

It's not really about what I said. In context it didn't really make any sense. It was just the fumbled mutterings of a drunk teenager. But I saw what it did to our friendship.

I saw the light die in her eyes.

I, more than anyone, knows how she felt.

I know how it feels, how much it hurts to be hurt. Through bitter words and physical humiliation. Yet, I still inflicted pain on someone I love. It's been six years now... God, it's been six years?

I miss her everyday.