Meet Suzy!

“ Just take it out of your mind, Marga.”

“ For the millionth time, mom. It’s not in the head. I’m not making things up. She’s real and I can see her.”

“ Then take it out of your sight.”

That was the deadlock. The reasons for vindicating seemed pretty absurd that I knew it was better off to shut up. Stealthily, I switched off my hearing aids —like I always do in the metaphorically deafening times, and gave up arguing with my mom. It was one of the few moments I was glad for having otitis media —deaf perks, I guess. My ears just couldn’t bear another word from her. Instead, I decided to stare outside from a car, while I reckoned nothing good ever happens after seeing Steve —my psychiatrist.

My parents think I have schizophrenia but I don’t mind. I’m convinced that no one could understand me, but me.

When I was ten, my best friend and I decided to have a sleepover at my house before she moved to a city around sixty miles from our house. We stayed up to play checkers and got our stomachs filled with all the iodine, sugar, and cholesterol from snacks I could now hardly finish a bag of. When the clock reached 30 minutes past eleven, we knew it was time to quit with the games and get ready to sleep. My bed was queen sized. It only had three pillows so I thought I’d give her two while I used the remaining one to settle down on my side —facing her and with the window at my back. I usually can hardly sleep with just one pillow but I just thought I should be hospitable towards my visitor.

As she prepared to go to bed and I already tucked in, we solemnly swore we’d be there for each other ‘till one of us starts to hate cotton candies. And in our young and sweet tooth case, that meant forever. I promised to visit her as frequent as I could, and she promised she would write to me every week. Our chitchat lasted for quite a while ‘till I introduced her to Suzy; then my best friend started screaming. She had this pale and aghast face as I was trying to calm her down before my parents knew.

I felt sorry for her, especially when tears started flowing from her eyes. But I felt more worried of Suzy — she’s very kind to me and I’m afraid she got hurt after seeing my best friend’s reaction towards meeting her. I didn’t know what else to do. They were both real special to me.

My best friend did leave that night. My parents just had to call her parents to pick her up because she wouldn’t stop crying. I’ve never shown Suzy to my parents so I felt uneasy of getting a long, mouthful speech from them —telling me to quit watching horror movies; but what’s more bothersome were the following days.

After that night I never got to see my best friend nor even got a call from her. No contact. No letters. No nothing.

I did plan to visit her, but she never got to give me her new address, not even their phone number. She just left like that; while I thought maybe it was time for her to hates cotton candies.

***

Things were far from being normal when I stepped into my second year of high school. I got very isolated; the only people I would go talk to are the school staff whenever I go to the library or the cafeteria. I still haven’t heard of my best friend. I had Steve. People thought of me as crazy. But I still did have my hearing aids and still did well on some of my classes. And beyond those, I still had Suzy.

Most of the time Suzy and I would get along with each other — she understands me quite well and she often asks me to play games with her. After that night with my best friend, Suzy and I got closer to each other. She didn’t leave me behind.

Playing games with Suzy is the best. We don’t play dress-up and pretty pink glitters like other girls; instead we like action. We often imagine playing with knives and nasty blood, as we kill everything that annoys us, in order to gain tranquility. But sometimes Suzy can get real mean that she ends up hurting me if I don’t submit to what she wants. I do try to reconcile with her always. I just don’t want to lose my her; she’s all I have.

*****

I love studying! I would study hard and read books —knowing the fact that I have nothing else to do; I devoted my time and attention to learning. And I did pretty well. It was the only thing I was good at —aside from being deaf, maybe, and being weird most of the time.

Which reminds me the night I had to complete my reflection essay on a musical we watched in our class. It was a nice movie. I especially thought of the protagonist very poignant. I had tears running from all over my face; so I thought I should give this movie a substantiated reflection essay.

I turned my hearing aids off to better focus on all the words. I left it hanging on my ear though, cause it makes me look cool. And I want to look cool even inside my house – it was the only thing I can self-aggrandize on. And just when I thought everything was doing fine, I heard a loud screech. I felt frightened. I was sure I turned my hearing aids off before writing. felt goosebumps all over my body. But as I turned my back to check if there was some kind of ghost, I was relieved it was only Suzy asking me to play with her. She said she wanted to kill my dad’s dog for always barking at her. I told her I can’t play with her and that I have a reflection paper to finish. Suzy got enraged.

That night my dad’s dog died. I saw dad’s downcast eyes. He had no idea of what happened and I felt quite disheartened to see him like that. I told him it might’ve been Suzy and that I will talk to her about it. My dad became quite suspicious and ask if I could introduce Suzy to him.

I invited Suzy to dinner the succeeding night and actually got excited my parents would meet her. I’ve been telling them stories about Suzy and they were glad I had at least a friend I could stick around with; but I never had the opportunity to show them what Suzy really looked like.

Finally, dinner came. My dad asked me where Suzy was and said he was disappointed she couldn’t come. I told him she was there all along as I pointed at Suzy.

My parents didn’t say a word after that and made me go to bed early. But I could hardly sleep in my room hearing Suzy talk about how we both should play with my dad. I knew she was up to something, so I told her I didn’t want to hurt my dad.

This made her furious and told me when she’s done with my dad, I’d be next. I could hardly breathe from crying and went into my parents’ room.

The next morning my dad burned Suzy and threw her. I was scared she’d still survive.

And she did. To this day Suzy lives.

But she hasn’t visited me here; no one ever did. Right now I’m in a place with people like me. I actually miss Steve —my old psychiatrist

I better stop talking now or they’ll think I’m crazy.

Just tell Suzy to see me sometimes; she seems like she’s enjoying playing with you.

“Hey! Would you look at that! My nurse! So have you heard from my best friend?”

“ You mean your doll when you were ten. Yeah, your parents told me about that?”