The Friend.

It’s dark. 

Very dark. 

It’s an uneasy darkness, one which sends shivers down your spine with every breath. The air is thick. Everything feels close, but also empty and endless. The contradicting feelings make my mind feel like it’s being swept from side to side. It makes me feel nauseous. Though that could also be the water. 

Oh god, the water. It’s too dark to see it, but you can hear it. Smell it. Taste it. Feel it. All the other senses amplified because of the blinding darkness. Why am I here? That’s an interesting story, and to be honest I don’t even know if it will give you the right answer. It's hard to know the best place to start with a story like this, but I'll give it a go.

I’ll start on the last day that I saw them… my friend.  I hesitate with the word friend, but we will get to that later. I remember it well mostly because of the season. It was June, a lovely dry warm day. It feels a million miles away from where I currently am, and so the memory burns into my brain like a branding iron as I so desperately yearn for warmth now. The sun was bright, and the sky was a brilliant blue. All the colours were popping out in front of me as I walked down the path towards Hyde Park. London. What an incredibly beautiful part of the world, I loved all of it. The hustle, the bustle. Most people find that suffocating and crave for open air and freedom but having experienced what I have now I can tell you for certain that this was not suffocation - I craved for people, and the ability to get lost in the crowd.

I walked fast on this particular day, usually I’d take my time but today I was in a hurry as I knew my friend would be growing increasingly impatient. I knew I was late from the moment I woke up, but that inkling was soon confirmed when I glanced up at that big stupid towering clock as I hopped onto the bus - 12.05. Damn it. 

This friend of mine did not like to wait. In fact I’d say it was their least favourite thing to do. Although I did have good reason for the lateness - I don’t think this would’ve alleviated the irritation they were most definitely feeling towards me now. I started to run. When I saw them all I could think was how much they stood out against the backdrop. A field of bright colours dancing around each other illuminated by the sunshine and then, a dark shadow. Sat grumpily on a park bench dressed head to toe in black clothes, reading a newspaper. It was one of the warmest days of the year - why the hell would they dress in all black, and who reads newspapers anymore? 

“Morning!” I say, with a bit too much cheer. “Funeral?” I say, gesturing to their attire. I try to lighten the mood, which was probably a poor choice looking back now, given how I’ve ended up. 

“It’s afternoon.” They say curtly, not looking up. 

“And it can be” Their eyes pierce through me now as they turn their attention away from their boring read. If looks could kill. 

“Look, I’m late I know, but I have a good reason…”

“I’m uninterested in your excuses” a hand flaps in front of me, cutting me off, and they fold up the newspaper and stand up. Glaring at me.

“You know by now how much I despise waiting, and today even more so" A pause. I try to relax my shoulders, it's pointless though. They know I'm anxious.

“So… how did it go?” Their eyes scan the scene around us as they wait for me to reply.

“It went… good”

“Well.”

“What?”

“It went well… let’s at least speak properly. When we’re in the business we’re in it’s best to try maintain some level of…decency” 

Decency seemed like a strange word to describe this particular situation. And honestly, given everything that’s happened recently, grammar definitely doesn’t make it onto my list of priorities.

I nod. “Sure. It went well. As well as could be expected.” A slight pause. “So… Can we be done with this now?” I say, growing a little impatient with the slow progress of this whole ordeal.

Their head dips slightly in agreement and then reaches for something in their pocket. A white envelope, slightly bulky. I was expecting something a little bigger, but I fear now is not the time nor the place to question it. They hand it to me slowly, and grip it tighter as my hand tries to take it. A warning. They let go, and I slipped the envelope into my pocket.

“I’ll be in touch.” I note something in their voice as they say this. I couldn’t figure out what it was at the time. Anger? Annoyance? Pity? Though now with hindsight and given my current predicament it’s become a little more clear now what I was hearing.

I’ve known this friend for a long time, and no - I don’t use the term friend ironically. We were friends for many years. As children we would play together at each other’s houses, walk to school together, tell each other stories and confide in each other with secrets. I guess it was that last part that led us to where our relationship ended up, secrets. 

I always imagined my life heading down a different path. I used to love drawing and construction - there was a time when I even thought I might make it as some big time architect or engineer. Living the high life in London, a big house, a family. Evidently my life took a different turn, a much darker one, which is fitting because now I find myself in the dark but I feel like I have been in darkness my whole life. And whilst this friend of mine did seem to take the same path as I did, for some reason for which I am not sure, they came out on top but they never treated me like an inferior. 

I analyse that final interaction I had with them, and I know now that what I was hearing in their voice wasn’t anger as I had first thought - it was sadness. 

The boat I’m on moves quickly. When I woke up here earlier it took me a while to orientate myself, my head was pounding. The last thing I remembered was having a drink at the bar where my hotel room was and then it all went black. It wasn’t the booze, I know - I can handle it, and that particular night I was only having one so I know this wasn’t a hangover. I’d checked myself for injuries and hadn’t noted anything serious other than a few scrapes and bruises from the rough wooden floor I was lying on for who knows how long. There was only one other possible reason for my current state and I didn’t much like the thought of it, because I know that if it was that and I’d woken up here then it only left me with one outcome. 

I wrap my coat around myself. Nice that they left me with some home comforts, even a little food. How thoughtful. It’s still dark but slightly less so than it was an hour ago, I don’t know what time it is. On the horizon I see the slightest glimpse of day break, the fire in my stomach which I had deduced as hunger pains is now very clearly the pangs of rage, a fire which hasn’t yet gone out.  

They underestimate me. I won’t go down that easily.