What I Didn't Do

Looking back, I was a ticking time bomb. Heat had built up in my body and must have fried my brain. What other explanation could there be? I had been simmering away for a while but it took an act of betrayal to finally send me over the edge. My mind had concocted a plan of its own accord. I was just the body carrying it out. It’s not an excuse, it’s the only way I can explain it. Who was controlling my mind? I can’t really say but I know it wasn’t me, plain old Stella. 

“Well?” Dr Starr asks, pen tapping on her notepad. “How long had you and Laila been friends for.”

I don’t remember when Laila had come into my life. She had just always been there. At the start I didn’t really know her, she was just a person walking down the corridors at school, a person seated in one of my classes, another ‘crowd scene’ actor in the school play. Then she became the friend of a friend and then by the end of high school she had become my friend. Suddenly I noticed how she lit up the room when she smiled, how my heart bet faster whenever I saw her and how my mouth formed a smile when she winked at me, even when I didn’t want it to. I was in love.

“We have been friends for years.”

“She must have upset you to make you act like you did.”

“No, it wasn’t her, it was me. I was just so jealous.”

“You felt jealous of Laila?”

“No, not of Laila. I was jealous of Cain.”

“Who is Cain?”

“He was her boyfriend back then.”

“I see, and why were you jealous of Cain?’

Laila and I were housemates and had been spending every minute we could together until Cain had come along. Then she kept blowing me off to do things with Cain. She kept talking about how glorious he was and how I needed to find someone so we could all do things together. She didn’t realise I had found someone and I thought she had too. 

“He ruined everything.”

“How did he ruin things?”

“He took Laila away from me.”

“I see, and what was your relationship with Leila like?”

“We weren’t a couple if that’s what you mean.”

“Did you want to be?”

“Yeh, I did.”

Being in love with your best friend is tough. I kept looking for subtle signs, signs that she felt the way I did. I spent hours and hours analysing every action and word. Did it mean something deeper? But her friendship was my world and I didn’t want to jeopardise it. We were exclusive in a sense, or maybe, looking back it was just me. We did everything together and seldom spent time with others. Any time we were apart I was counting down the minutes until I was back with her again. Then Cain came along and things changed.

“Just to be sure I have understood you correctly. You felt jealous of Cain because he had taken Laila away from you.

“Yeh.”

“You wanted yourself and Leila to be a couple but Cain stopped that from happening.”

“Yes.”

“You must have felt very hurt and frustrated.”

“I did.”

“So, tell me about the car.”

Cain had a car. It was a bright red sports car. It looked a bit like a ferrari but it wasn’t. Laila loved it but I thought it was just Cain’s way of compensating for something. I dreaded the sound of that car. It’s arrival meant that it would soon be taking Laila away and I would be left alone at home. After it pulled away from the curb I would try to busy myself doing things but mostly I moped. I didn't even have the car’s return to look forward to as it meant either Cain would be there or I would have to listen to a rerun on ‘How Amazing Cain Is’  for the next half hour.

“It was a car, nothing special.”

“Did Cain think it was special.”

“Yes,”

Cain had two loves; Laila and his car. I had none, how was that fair. The logical part of my brain knows that life’s not meant to be fair, but the other part doesn’t care. It’s all about me and how I feel. At first it was just a little nagging feeling I could shake away and then day by day and week by week it grew. It grew until the feeling took over my body and worse of all my brain. The feeling did not let me rest. 

“And how did you feel about the car?”

“The car, I dunno. It’s a show off car.”

“Ok, now tell me about what you did to the car,”

Even now both shame and anger coarse through my body as I think back to that evening. We had finished dinner and were sitting on the sofa laughing and joking when I saw Cain look purposefully at Laila. Next minute they were standing up, making excuses and moving off to her room. Left on my own, feelings started swirling around inside of me fighting to be heard. Finding it hard to breathe I snatched up a key. Slamming the door behind me i went out for a walk to try to clear my head and then I saw it. Cain’s bright red car, glistening under the street light. Cain’s trophy taunting me that I would never be good enough. Rage surged. What happened next happened without my knowledge because next thing I knew I was bent double beside his car, key in hand, etching my mark along the side panels. I caught myself, horrified at what had been done. My eyes opened wide as I  took in the thin dark line that now sliced the bright red paint in half. You would think I would look, be horrified and stop, that would have been slightly better. But no, he had driven me to it, I decided. It was all Cain’s fault, this is what he deserved. That all familiar feeling of fury overwhelmed me so I walked to the back of the car and continued to mark out the injustice of life upon the once spotless, car. 

“I keyed it,”

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Like running.”

“Oh, do you mean physically running or running away.”

“Physically running, I had so much energy. It was like I was on a high.”

“So did you run?”

“Yes.”

I ran until I was exhausted, trying to get rid of the voices in my head telling me what a stupid thing I had done. Cain would be so mad, Laila would be too. She would hate me. Maybe they didn’t need to know. Maybe I could sneak back into the house unseen and pretend I’d never been out. I had slam the door, though. Maybe they wouldn’t remember that.  I’ll probably get caught, hauled of to jail. Imprisoned for five years. I can’t handle that. To lie and deny is a much better idea.

“What happened when you finished running?

“I went home.”

“What did you do when you got home?”

“I went to bed, to sleep.”

“How did you feel about what you had done?”

“I felt really bad but that other part of me, the part that did it. It felt pleased, pleased that I hurt Cain and pleased I didn’t get caught. That part feels proud. I know that’s wrong but …”

There is something wrong with me. How can I possibly admit that I’m proud of keying someone's prized possession. It’s not all of me, but it it a part of me. That part can sleep at night but the rest of me can’t. 

‘Well, you’re right that it’s wrong. Have you ever thought of owning up to it?”

“No, why would I do that now?”

It’s something I don’t want to even think about, let alone stir up years later when everyone else has probably forgotten. Laila and Cain broke up about six months after the car incident. I have no idea what happened to Cain but Laila is still around and I see her sometimes. So why would I bother to hunt Cain down and tell him now or ruin things with Laila? To ease my conscience?  I’ve done pretty well in keeping the memory locked up deep inside me so far. Why risk letting it out?