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Sad Contemporary Friendship

This story contains themes or mentions of suicide or self harm.

TW: bullying, high school.


Craig’s terrier, Barkie, was the first to smell the fire. He loved the park’s main loop, but when he started pulling towards Jackdaw Hill and wouldn’t let up, Craig conceded and they climbed. The acrid stink of burn hit his nostrils and he narrowed his eyes. Technically you weren’t supposed to have any open fires, even if barbecue season was right around the corner.

As they climbed the trampled path, worn by countless feet over the decades, and flanked on either side by bushes and trees, Barkie sniffed furiously and kept his ears perked. And then Craig heard it – the unmistakable cr-cr-cra of wood crackling in a fire.

On the old clearing at the top of the hill, they saw a roaring bonfire – and a car of all things! Craig’s frown sharpened, because you were definitely not supposed to drive inside the park, tearing up the grounds with your stupid hatchback, ruining things for everyone else because – why? Because you lacked courtesy? Imagination? Or maybe you just didn’t care?

He couldn’t wait to see who the self-absorbed asshat responsible for this was, and he felt his fists grow tight. Kids played in the park, for goodness’ sake! They shouldn’t have to watch for traffic everywhere, just because of some lazy entitled fu–

–A woman appeared from the other side of the car, carrying a cardboard box overflowing with papers.

Craig felt his jaw tense. Not quite the image he was expecting. Not quite the greasy balding bastard in his mind’s eye, with his oily shirt stained in mustard and ketchup, and his sweatpants full of holes, and his flip-flops tattered, holding a can of beer in one hand and scratching himself with the other. No, this woman wasn’t quite that. Clean clothes under a nice green jacket, high boots that didn’t really look like park wear, and hair cared for. No beer, though she was smoking, but that was hardly a crime.

Still, woman or not, she was beholden to the rules just like everyone else.

“Hello,” he said, approaching, tone as curt as his steps. Barkie barked – a good sign – but then wagged his tail, irritating Craig.

The woman set the box down, crouched, reached her arms out, and said “Who’s a good boy?” And when Barkie barked again and wagged his tail harder, so deep was Craig’s sense of betrayal that he dropped the leash, freeing the dog to run to the stranger to accept a petting.

Craig cleared his throat.

“Nice dog,” she said, rising and wiping her hands on her pants.

“Um, thanks. Uh, you’re not supposed to–”

“Bernice,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Uh, hi.” They shook. “Craig.”

“And this handsome gent?”

“Barkie.”

Barkie sniffed at the box she set down, his tail sweeping the air. Then he snatched a bundle of papers and took off.

“Barkie! No!” Craig chased him. “Heel, boy! Heel!”

The papers scattered as Barkie ran, but soon enough loyalty trumped enthusiasm and he allowed himself to be caught. Craig pulled the last of the documents from his mouth – it was a photo, roughly A4-size, showcasing about a dozen young cheerleaders, each smiling bright and raising a medal, on a green field with a school in the background, and a glistening glob of slobber in the foreground.

Craig wiped the dog off the photo. “I am so sorry,” he said. “Normally he’s much better behaved.”

Bernice gathered up the last of the scattered papers and approached, and he handed her the photo.

“No worries,” she said. She glanced at the picture, smiled sadly, and then tapped the girl in front, the one being lifted by the others. “That’s me.”

“Looks like you guys won.”

Her smile deepened.

“Looks like you guys were really happy.”

“Cheerleaders are supposed to look happy.”

“Oh, uh, right.”

She tapped the other girls in the photo naming each one. Her finger lingered on “Tammy Anderson”, at the edge of the photo. “We worked hard.” She took a drag from her cigarette, and then tossed the butt into the fire. “We did whatever we had to.” Her smile faded and she frowned at the photo. “We won.”

“Well, congrats. I’m sure it must have been exciting–”

She flicked the photo casually into the fire and Craig startled.

“What are you doing!?” He half considered trying to fish it out, but one, the flames were too high, and two, when she also dumped the other papers she was holding into the blaze, she made it abundantly clear that it was no accident.

He shook his head. “Why did you…? It looked like such a happy memory.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” She picked up her box and tossed more things in. Papers, certificates, and so many photos. “You know all those stupid teen movies? About high school? About how all the girls are super bitchy to each other?” She sighed when she picked up another big photo, of herself in a flowing sapphire dress beside a young guy in a tux – prom maybe?

Into the fire it went.

“They’re all bullshit,” she continued. “But they’re also all true.” She tore open a fat manila envelope and began unloading its contents. “All the pettiness, all the nastiness, all the bullying.” Another handful of photos. “All the cruelty.”

She tossed the envelope in, and grabbed another. “It was brutal. You couldn’t be too different, or people would tear you apart.” A series of party photos waterfalled into the pyre. “But you couldn’t be too the same either.” She lingered on a group photo where everyone looked a bit older. College, maybe? It too was tossed. “Basically, for some people, you just couldn’t be.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Craig said. “Sounds like it was rough.”

“Worst time of my life.” She started on the next envelope.

Craig watched her as she worked. If she hadn’t told him, he would never have known, but then people were good at hiding their pain. Was that a vestigial defence mechanism you learned to survive adolescence? Or did adults, too, pick on those that showed weakness? It seemed ridiculous, but then he’d seen so much insanity, such intense vitriol, all over the internet. Seen it, and he feared, perhaps participated in it.

No, no maybe about it. The hours he wasted online, the years, arguing with strangers about the stupidest things, violently asserting a point he didn’t even understand all because he couldn’t bear to admit defeat, writing things he would never dare utter out loud, ever hidden behind his shield of anonymity.

What drove an adult to wish death on someone, just because they held different beliefs? Or lived according to other rules? Or, what, loved the wrong people? What made hatred so seductively easy to reach for? Road rage for the information superhighway.

Bernice gasped, snapping him out of it. She held a newspaper clipping with both hands, her smile strained, a tear rolling down her cheek. She sniffed, and showed him the article.

A black-and-white photo of a smiling young woman, vaguely familiar, and a small block of text that began, “Tammy Anderson was.”

“About a month ago,” Bernice said, “she took her own life.” She ran her sleeves across her eyes.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I hadn’t seen her in years. Not since she dropped out of college, since the drugs. I had no idea.” She shook her head with a bitter snort. “It’s weird, because what I most remember is this one summer – I think we were eight – where we were obsessed with Disney. We marathoned the movies every Saturday night, at her house or mine, and there had to be a plate of fries – that was very important. We’d share those fries as we watched.”

“I’m so sorry,” Craig repeated.

“So am I.” She folded up the article and slid it into her pocket. The one bit saved from the flames.

“It’s crazy how cruel people can be,” he said. “I’m so sorry this happened to the two of you.”

She sniffed again, then looked at him. Cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” he said, motioning to the fire, to everything, “this. High school, the bullying, the… what happened to Tammy. I’m sorry they put you guys through it.”

Oh,” she said after a moment, smiling sadly again. “I think I gave you the wrong impression. We weren’t put through this. I put her through it.” She looked into the flames pensively. “I mean, I don’t know what specifically drove her to end it, but I must have contributed. I was absolutely savage to her, for years.”

“Oh,” said Craig, which was what you said when you didn’t know what else to say.

“I can’t fix the past. I can’t change who I was. Best I can do is to remember her. To change who I am.” She turned from the fire to face him. “Is that enough, do you think?”

“Um.” That was the other thing you said when you didn’t know what else to say.

“Rhetorical, I guess. Sorry, didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Gee, Craig, you must think I’m a real piece of shit, eh?”

“Um.” The thought had crossed his mind, but in its wake was something colder – that ancient, shapeless leviathan called what if. He’d done a lot of growing up in his life, but all those years spent shooting his mouth off… what if. What if someone took it the wrong way? What if they… did what Tammy did? What if he found out about it? Would he too burn his memories? Or bury them, and justify it all away. Maybe it was better to just not know. Maybe the guy that said ignorance was bliss was onto something.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“I don’t know,” Bernice said. “I didn’t plan on it. This was supposed to be a private burning thing, but then you arrived, and, well…” She shrugged. “Once I started I couldn’t stop. Maybe I need a witness. What’s the point of feeling like shit if nobody’s around to see it, right?”

“What?”

“It’s like, you can’t ask someone for forgiveness if you don’t admit you did wrong, right? And I can’t ask Tammy. But I guess, I can do the admitting.”

Craig nodded, drawing a long breath. Would he have done the same? Could he have? Best never to have to find out. “So that’s what today’s about then. You, this fire, this park, springtime. You’re, what, turning over a new leaf?”

She chuckled. “I like that. Actually, with the fire I was picturing a phoenix-situation, you know? Burn to death and be reborn from the ashes, purified. But phoenixes are majestic and turning over a new leaf makes me sound like a comic book villain. I think that fits better.”

Craig gave Barkie a scratch behind the ear. He’d been unusually well behaved considering all the non-walking they were doing. Maybe it was the excitement of meeting a new person. And Barkie didn’t care – didn’t even know – what she was doing here. He’d accepted her anyway, and he was normally a good judge of character.

“What am I not supposed to?” Bernice asked.

“Uh, sorry?”

“Earlier, you told me, ‘You’re not supposed to,’ but you never finished your thought.”

He took a moment to remember, recalling what had brought them to the hill in the first place. “I don’t remember,” he lied. “It wasn’t important anyway.”

She nodded, accepting it as fact. “In that case, listen – I still have a bunch of boxes in my car. You want to help me burn my old self?”

Craig had things to do, but how often could you witness the rebirth of a phoenix? He nodded, and they got to work.

February 06, 2024 22:19

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46 comments

Michelle Oliver
14:40 Feb 12, 2024

A very cathartic story. The regrets we carry for choices and actions in our youth can burden us into adulthood. I like the way you began to imply that this was a process of grieving for a lost friend, then we come to realise its grief for themselves as the consequences of words and actions lay heavily on their shoulders. Craigs about face in this story is great too. He begins quite judgmental, and by the end he has developed more empathy. The only really innocent party here is Barky, and he is a great counter balance these two flawed humans.

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Michał Przywara
21:45 Feb 13, 2024

Thanks, Michelle! Yeah, I figured Craig being quick to assume would lead him to misread the situation initially - and then again, and then again, etc., until things were finally clear. I think a lot of us do that - certainly I'm prone to it. I think we're addicted to feeling like we're right, and that seems to lead to a lot of trouble. I'm glad that came across, along with the nature of Bernice's grief. Thanks for the feedback!

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Robert Egan
15:57 Feb 11, 2024

A beautiful chance encounter between strangers. Maybe Craig will be inspired to engineer his own rebirth by "burning" some of his digital history? And that made me wonder whether some of those "comment has been removed/deleted" instances in threads speak to ashes preceding rebirth rather than moderator involvement. Barkie was a wonderful element of the story. As a dog owner, the way he reshaped the interaction felt real to me.

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Michał Przywara
21:48 Feb 13, 2024

Thanks, Robert! That's an interesting point, with the removed comments. I personally find them to be infuriatingly compelling mysteries, especially if they still have a bunch of replies. Was it shame? Second thoughts? A mistake? Trolling? There's a powerful idea that once something is on the Internet it's there forever, so finding something that contradicts that grabs our attention. I appreciate the feedback!

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Judith Jerdé
22:11 Feb 10, 2024

Michal, People specializing in grief counseling say it’s very cathartic to burn something of the person we’re grieving, Whatever the cause is , death, breakup… Someone commented your use of, “asshat, That one caught my eye too, I laughed, it's so much more amusing than some similar words. Great story. Of course the dog’s name “Barkie” is perfect, so real.

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Michał Przywara
21:50 Feb 13, 2024

Thanks, Judith! Yeah, fire is a weird thing, isn't it? A destructive force that's nevertheless used for healing too - no wonder we've been fascinated by it throughout history. I'm glad you enjoyed this one :)

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Tom Skye
20:20 Feb 09, 2024

Great character study. I really like the presence of the dog. The blissful ignorance serving as a counterweight to the cruelty of humanity. That was nicely done. Guilt is a difficult subject to convey with nuance. I liked that the woman never got hysterical. It felt more deeply introspective. Like meeting a stranger in those circumstances allowed her to think out loud. Like free therapy 😂 Awesome piece Michal. Enjoyed it

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Michał Przywara
21:41 Feb 12, 2024

Thanks, Tom! Lots of people seem to like the dog - as a dog person, I can understand that :) I'm glad it came out nuanced! I think it's a topic that's easy to push into melodrama, but I think the underlying conflict of “I did bad” vs “I am a good person” is a very interesting one. I appreciate the feedback!

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Bob Long Jr
18:10 Feb 09, 2024

Loved the story Michal .. you will have to forgive my chuckles during the somber reading .. oh and uh .. what you say when ... that made me laugh cause it's true

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Michał Przywara
02:08 Feb 11, 2024

Thanks for reading, Bob! I'm glad you enjoyed it :) Yeah, sometimes we're just at a loss for words :)

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Kailani B.
00:13 Feb 09, 2024

This idea of burning things to become a new person is an interesting concept to me. I lost most of my possessions in a fire when I was young and on the one hand I'm glad I don't have to decide what to do with those things, but it's also kind of sad to me that I don't have a strong physical connection to the past; there's nothing to burn. Even now I don't feel tethered to my land or home and I wonder if that rootlessness is an inborn thing or a consequence of the American culture. You did a good job showing why Bernice feels like destroying...

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Michał Przywara
21:45 Feb 10, 2024

Thanks, Kailani! Yeah, it's been a bit less humour lately, true. But you know how it goes, you get an idea that fits the prompt and you go with it, especially with only a week :) Sorry to hear about the fire! You raise some very interesting points, about property and what that means for memories/roots. It now makes me wonder too, as I've met people who take minimalism to an extreme, avoiding anything they might consider clutter, which often includes the kind of things others call sentimental. (Although digital media, including photos, is...

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21:11 Feb 08, 2024

Hi Michal, another great story from you. I especially like the dog and how its judgement is respected. If you want one suggestion I'd just say that you might have overused the italics. They got a bit distracting and started to lose their meaning after a while. But the message is clear here and it a touching one. Made me think back on a few things. It's only a powerful story that has that effect. Thank you for posting it.

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Michał Przywara
22:30 Feb 09, 2024

Thanks, Katharine! And especially for pointing out the italics - I do admit, I like them, so it's good to know when it's overdone. I had/have a similar issue with commas and that's something I need to watch for. I appreciate the feedback, and I'll keep an eye on it going forward :)

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Story Time
05:08 Feb 08, 2024

"A series of party photos waterfalled into the pyre." That one really jumped out at me, but I enjoyed the whole story. Perhaps a little triggering, because, yes, that time of life can be one that's hard to escape from. Another winner, Michal.

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Michał Przywara
22:35 Feb 09, 2024

Thanks! I like that line too, but there was a horrible moment where I was stuck on “waterfalled” vs “waterfell” :) I'm glad you enjoyed it - and thanks for pointing out the triggers, I’ve made them more explicit.

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Tommy Goround
23:35 Feb 07, 2024

I liked the unfolding, & character development. It was smooth to read.

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Michał Przywara
21:44 Feb 08, 2024

Thanks, Tommy! I'm glad to hear that :)

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Trudy Jas
16:23 Feb 07, 2024

Haven't we all done one (or many) things we'd rather burn and leave behind? As usual a great story, Michal. Great introspection on Craig's part, relating his own often careless behavior back to Brenice's confession. "I can't ask for forgiveness, but at least I can admit it."

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Michał Przywara
21:45 Feb 08, 2024

Thanks, Trudy! Yeah, no doubt everyone's got their set of regrets - bigger or smaller. Not much to be done about the past, but at least we can learn from them. I appreciate the feedback!

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Claire Trbovic
12:21 Feb 07, 2024

Great vignette, in addition any story which references an absorbed asshat gets an A* from me

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Michał Przywara
21:49 Feb 08, 2024

Thanks, Claire! Yeah, there's something about characters like that, which leads to stories :) Maybe it's their natural ability to generate conflict. I appreciate the feedback!

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Alexis Araneta
10:51 Feb 07, 2024

Again, I saw that your submissions count has increased and had to check it out. Incredible job ! Road rage for the information superhighway. -- Great line ! And yes, secondary school wasn't really the happiest time for me, so this really hit me.

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Michał Przywara
21:47 Feb 08, 2024

I'm shooting for 104, so there should be a couple more stories yet. Yeah, there's something about those years that can lead to a lot of misery. Sometimes it seems like some people never outgrow it, and continue causing misery throughout their whole lives too. I don't know what the fix is, or if there even is one. I'd like to think reflection or empathy might help, but that's a personal thing everyone has to opt in to. Thanks for reading!

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Ty Warmbrodt
06:27 Feb 07, 2024

We never know how deeply our words and actions can cut until the slice has already been made. A great reminder to always be kind.

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Michał Przywara
21:51 Feb 08, 2024

Definitely. All too easy to be swept up in the moment. Thanks for reading, Ty!

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Mary Bendickson
02:18 Feb 07, 2024

Burning your past. Proof positive not nostalgic.

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Michał Przywara
21:46 Feb 07, 2024

Indeed! It'd be nice if we could just throw all our mistakes into the flames. Thanks for reading!

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01:53 Feb 07, 2024

Great story. I really enjoy your writing style. And high school was definitely the worst years of my life, thank god that's over!

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Michał Przywara
21:43 Feb 07, 2024

Thanks, Melissa! Yeah, there's something about those years that just doesn't work out for so many people. I'm glad you enjoyed the story :)

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Christy Morgan
01:40 Feb 07, 2024

Asshat -- I've always liked that word - Michal - ha! Great story and highly relatable...haven't we all wanted to rise out of the ashes and be a different person at times? I like that Craig has his own epiphany...perhaps they become friends!

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Michał Przywara
21:41 Feb 07, 2024

Thanks, Christy! Yeah, that's a fun word :) I'd like to think they could be friends. There was a bit of opening up there, even if not entirely pleasant, so they're not exactly strangers any more. I appreciate the feedback!

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An Nguyen
03:40 Mar 31, 2024

The idea of burning away your old self is really interesting, and the way you built both characters really impacts the story. Incredible work as always. :) As a huge Potterhead, the idea of a phoenix always brings me back to Dumbledore and Fawkes, so you'll have to forgive my Harry-related mind wanderings during this read.

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Michał Przywara
01:17 Apr 08, 2024

Thanks, An! Potter's hugely influential, no doubt. I think that's a good thing though, since more people know what a phoenix is without needing an explanation. I wrote a story with a cockatrice once, but that led to a lot more headscratching. Thanks for reading :)

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Marty B
06:10 Feb 17, 2024

Ah the problems with anonymity, we all let the the best, and worst versions of ourselves out when we know no one can see us. Unfortunately, the worst versions of ourselves are terrible! 'writing things he would never dare utter out loud, ever hidden behind his shield of anonymity.'

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Michał Przywara
23:44 Feb 19, 2024

Thanks, Marty! Too right. There's lots of upsides to anonymity, especially online, but it does seem like “anonymous = free from responsibility” too.

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Stephen Laviera
22:58 Feb 15, 2024

Do you write the characteristics of a dog uncommonly well. Is there a second part to the story? I would like to know how the relationship between Bernice and Craig unfolds.

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Michał Przywara
17:21 Feb 18, 2024

Thanks for reading, Stephen! No, there's no follow up or expansion to this story at this time. I can see there's definitely room for it, but my “stories to write” pile is already massive :) I appreciate the feedback!

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Helen A Smith
14:11 Feb 15, 2024

Great story Michal. Pertinent to so much about human nature that is disturbing. Survival of the fittest. The instinct to bully rather than be bullied. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately though in a different context. How people group together and find a scapegoat to feel better about themselves. It was good the way the woman wanted to make a fresh start by burning the past. To start her life again as a better person and rise like a phoenix from the ashes. If only it were that easy! However, admitting what she did was a good start...

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Michał Przywara
21:49 Feb 15, 2024

Thanks, Helen - that's excellent feedback! “but no one is perfect and there is nearly always a chance for redemption” - yeah, exactly. You can't fix some things, especially if someone else got hurt, but you can almost always learn something from it, and maybe find a way to a better future. I think that's important to stress, as we collectively seem to have a preference for absolutes - everything is right or wrong. That doesn't leave a lot of room for recovering from mistakes though, and I think we need that room if people are even going to...

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