FanStory.com - The Last Good Turnby wilkswrites
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Helping a Friend Spells The End
The Last Good Turn by wilkswrites
A Good Turn Gone Wrong writing prompt entry

When we first met, I was 18 and she was 17.  We had both been accepted as counselors at a major university where we both attended.  She was already known as "the crazy girl."  During training, we were thrown into the same circle.  The activity called for all six counselors to put together a puzzle without dialogue.  In essence, if you saw that your piece fit someone's puzzle, you had to relinquish it.  Everyone successfully put their puzzle together, but I was missing one piece.  Guess who held on to mine?  Maya, sat with the large puzzle piece in her hand and simply stared at me.  Everyone sat quietly by, waiting for her to relinguish the puzzle piece so that I could complete my puzzle.  After about 15 very long minutes, Maya finally tossed the piece to me in the rudest manner.  
 
I had heard a rumor that Maya had been assigned the same room as me. I immediately called my mother in tears.  I didn't want anything at all to do with this person.  My mom said something to calm me down, and I later learned that it was another girl by the same name who would be rooming with me.  I was relieved.
 
Maya clearly did not like me at first sight.  I would later learn (years later) that it was because she thought that I thought too highly of myself.  She said that it seemed that I had it all together (like Claire Huxtable).  In reality, it only appeared that I had it together.  People often judged me by what they saw on the outside.  Others would tell me that I thought I was the shit as I walked with my head held high, with a face that screamed, "Hey, you wanna fight?" Others referred to me as "regal." Some saw that as a threat.  The truth was that I was insecure, timid, and would cry easily.  I would overlook abuse and criticism from others just to keep peace to my own detriment, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was fight.
 
At some point Maya and I managed to become friends.  We remained friends despite many of her wayward ways.  She would excitedly ask to meet somewhere to study together and not show up. She cried constantly because she feared everything and often felt cheated by someone or something.   Although, the few times that I fell apart, emotionally, she was incapable of assisting me in any way through my crisis.  Once she invited me to spend spring break with her for a week of which I gladly did.  Near the end of the week, she called her mother on the phone and  said, "she (as in me)  has overstayed her welcome." Then she handed me a gas bill and asked me to leave.  After that, we didn't speak for a few months, but as would often happen, she would face a crisis that she couldn't handle alone and would come crying to me. Because I viewed her as a little sister, I allowed her back in my life multiple times.  Many offenses like this took place, and each time I allowed her to wrangle her way back into my friend space.  
 
Fast forward to year 40, when Maya developed a brain tumor.  Her exact words to me were, "I really need you!"  I reluctantly flew to her location and sat by her bedside before and after her surgery.  Not one of her family members (newly x-husband, daughter, brother, cousins, aunties) came to visit with her.  While she recuperated, I went to her home (at her request) and thoroughly cleaned and redecorated it for her. It looked like a new clean cozy place once the renovation was completed.  I cooked every meal, mopped, washed dishes, did the grocery shopping, and more.  
 
While at her home, I noticed at least two personalities within her.  I would have blamed this on the surgery, the meds, or something pertaining to her illness, but I recognized these personalities.  The one that I knew best, I called "The Valley Girl."  She is happy and over excited and you can enjoy girl time with her eating milk and cookies and laughing and chatting.  
 
The other personality, became clear to me as I met her first during the puzzel exercise.  She asked me to go to the store to get her meds while I was eating breakfast.  My reply was, "I will as soon as I finish my oatmeal."  Within just a few minutes, I noticed that she was heading out the door in her hat and coat and gloves.  As I turned, I asked, "what are you doing?"  Her reply was sharp and hard as she stomped on the floor saying, "I need my medicine now!"  I hurried and joined her as this was the first time that she was out of bed and in the streets.  I was visibly upset, and I let her know it.  To my surprise, the valley girl suddenly emerged saying, "So, what will you cook for dinner tonight.  I love your cooking."  I gave her the, 'are you nuts' look.  
 
As two more personalities emerged, I couldn't wait to get out of her home and return to my own.  As she healed, she made her way to my house for a visit to celebrate my birthday six months later.  Now that she was in my home, I felt it necessary to draw some boundaries after witnessing how she managed her own home.  I noticed that she left full cups or cans of liquid (coffee, hot coco, milk, soda) on the floor.  I have watched her accidentally kick it over and then halfway clean it up.  Her carpets revealed how often this happened.  When I saw that she had placed a can of soda on the threshold of the kitchen and the hallway floor, I asked nicely if she would not to that.  In fact, I requested that all beverages be consumed only in the kitchen area.  Apparently, this offended her, but to my surprise, when I awoke the next morning, I learned that she had spilled milk on my livingroom carpet when I was asleep upstairs.  I moved the ottomen and felt wet on the floor.  Only then did she confess, and had planned to allow the ottomen to conceal the deed.   Had I not moved the ottomen she had planned to say nothing.  I thought it was childish and I told her so.  
 
Shortly afterwards, she said to me, "I'd rather hang out with your sister, than to hang out with you."
 
My brain began to whirl with all of her offenses throughout the years, and the many instances that I forgave her.  I began to struggle internally with feelings of love for my friend, and feelings of distaste and disgust.  I found myself feeling foolish and so tired of her shannigans, and actually sick of myself for constantly dealing with this person year after year, offense after offense.  I thought about the puzzle piece, and spring break eviction from her apartment, and the renovation of her home, and the caretaking of her during her recovery and I became internally angry with myself for being such a fool.  I  spoke calmly and deliberately: "Then you can make my sister your new buddy, and stay the hell away from me!"
 
Not surprisingly, she has been communicating with my sister frequently, sending her cards, and flowers and other items.  They talk frequently, and I say to my sister, "Good luck!"  The fact that she has buddied up to my sister, speaks volumns about Maya, but I would never allow her to even think that I feel some kind of way about it. I simply believe that it is important to allow people to show you who they are, an BELIEVE THEM.
 
I've not spoken to Maya in almost three years.  About two weeks ago, I received a call from her requesting that I attend a concert with her.  Her request has gone unanswered as has the previous three or four other attempts at apologizing and attempting to get back into my good graces.  --- The Valley girl doesn't impress me anymore, the crying damzel in distress does not get any empathy from me these days, and the other two downright nasty personalities could never be my friend.  ---  I'm done and it feels so good.


Writing Prompt
Please write a very short story based on trying to help someone, but it's not appreciated. Fun or serious. No poetry.

Author Notes
This was someone who I called 'best friend' for years. The relationship was one-sided, and draining. I gave way more than I received. I learned that she isn't capable of giving, because she is so busy taking the other person's time and attention-she lives in that space. She is needy and I love to help the needy; a habit of which I have only recently learned to break.

Many details have been omitted just because the story needs to be short. Just know that I gave this one my all. Now its time to move on.

     

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