The invisible ...2

Dear diary,

Am sorry I could not finish what I started the other day. Something came up and I had to take care of it but am here now. Yeah when I met Shirley again this time in college, she was different, not just the physical appearance but everything about her. I could not pinpoint what exactly had changed but there was something. I asked her how life has been treating her and she just answered with one word “fine”. I knew she had sharing issues ever since she was young so I didn't want to bother her, at least not on the first day of our reunion.  After spending the first two month of my college year with her I knew not only there was something seriously wrong with her but I might not be able to save her this time. She was beyond redemption.

“Hoochies who run for free enter for free”; one of the banners to the parties that Shirley would never miss. If you are wondering what that banner means, it means girls who provide free sex get a free pass to the party. I never understood why Shirley would choose to attend to such parties and every time I ask her why she would answer me with something like “I have a social disease, I have to go out every night if I don’t I might as well start planning how to kill everyone around me”. Yeah it’s not like I  was perfect or anything, I did attend crazy parties and did stupid mistakes that I  later I regretted them but with Shirley it was different..she was always drunk..Rarely sober..she didn't care whose bed she woke up from… she didn't do it for money so why was she doing that to herself? I made it my mission to find out what she was hiding; somehow I thought if I knew it, I might find a way to bring back the little Shirley with self conscious.

Even as a 10 year old girl, Shirley was good in keeping secrets and I knew it was not going to be an easy task to find out what lead her to be what she was.  There was one loophole though; Shirley was good in keeping secrets only when she was sober, but when drunk she would spill everything out. Mmmh nice so what I needed to do was to wait until when she was drunk and play the detective card. It didn't take long since she was a party girl and I got a chance to be with the drunken version of her and asked her why she was doing what she was doing to herself. That night our conversation was like this….

 Shirley: Shantelle, you are a good friend have I ever told you that??

Shantelle: yes you have

Shirley: That day you told the teacher about all the secrets I asked you not to I was so mad at you, but now when I think of it I am glad you did because you served Shawn’s life and gave me a break for a short while.

Shantelle: break??

She took a sip from the vodka bottle she came with and continued

Shirley: Shantelle I was not like this, and trust me this was not my first option, my first option was suicide, I tried that several times when I was in high school but somehow it was not successful, every time someone was on time to take me to the hospital. And every time the doctor would detoxicate me or stitch my wrist and recommend therapy, never bothered to check my broken heart if it was still there anyway. I had no friends around school; I was always on my own… Then I met Janet and his group, they introduced me to drugs and alcohol….. I liked it, it made me forget… every time I used one of those I could forget a part of what I never wanted to remember, it was my escape route, it still is my escape route.

Shantelle: so why sex parties??

Shirley: because there is where I get drugs and alcohol for free, yeah it is not entirely free, I have to F**k someone or several people for it but then I don’t mind, I prostitute a part of me that is no longer important to me, nobody suffer except my Karma a little bit when am sober but it does not do big harm.

Shantelle: why don’t you want to remember?

Shirley:  I don’t want to remember then Shantelle, the pleasure of remembering was taken away from me when Shawn died, He was the only family I was left with, he is the one who gave me strength to fight whatever was in front of me, but ever since he was gone I don’t want to remember anything, even who I was.

Shantelle: OMG Shawn is dead?? All this while you have been telling me Shawn is okay and he is dead??

Shirley: yeah I believe he is fine wherever he is, though am so mad that he left me alone. It was a hit and run accident….. (This time she drunk the bottle until it was half way)

Shantelle: so what about your uncle??

Shirley: I don’t have an uncle Shantelle; to me he died with my parents. After my parents were taken away from us he took us in, I thought he was the same uncle who used to love us when my parents where around but he wasn't he was there after whatever they had left behind. He never cared if we eat or slept hungry, Shawn was just 5, he would sometimes cry at night because he was hungry and I would try cooking something for him, sometimes we would eat his leftovers. He would abuse us physically and sometimes he would abuse me sexually. He told me if I dared told someone he was going to kill both of us. I guess this is where I started to lose myself conscious. When we moved to the other city we were taken to boarding school, I had no friends as usual…. Then  there was this teacher who used to like me, I thought it was because I was leading in my class but then just like my stupid uncle he did not waste any time…the first chance he got, he raped me and took away a little part of myself conscious that my uncle had left in me. You know what in all this Shawn gave strength….. But now that I he is not around…….. (Then she then collapsed on the couch and slept there)

Dear diary, when you are faced with tragedies like Shirley was, forgetting is just not enough, you can try to paddle away from the memories like she did and think they are gone but they will keep floating back again and again every time you are sober. I thought after knowing all this I would have known a way to help her but I realized I still did not have any idea of what I was going to do with all these…  I looked at her on that couch sleeping on her back her one hand letting go of the empty bottle of vodka and I could feel that sympathy that you feel for an abused child who suffer without a good mom or dad to love and care for them.

Suddenly I feel the need to check on her and know how she is doing… I will get back to you as soon as I know she is okay.