Rachel and Bitter Anger

I ruined you because I was angry.

I just stopped liking you because you had feelings and I didn't.

It wasn't jealousy. I was annoyed.

You cried because you had a debilitating condition that would never go away.

Well, goddamnit, so do I. You just get your fancy little needles to show for it and what do I get? Darkness under my eyes and stumbling memories. At least you had the scars to show for it! I had nothing! I struggled more than you ever did, and yet there you were, getting actual doctors and actual treatment with actual chemicals and medicine and diagnostics and-- and-- and I got nothing! I got stared at for napping at break, and at lunch, and in class, and even in my own bed! I got yelled at for not being able remember things because my brain prioritizes consciousness from recollection! I got teachers who rolled their eyes at me when I turned in half complete homework when really, you know what? I was passed out at my desk because my FUCKING brain doesn't WORK like YOURS and NO ONE BELIEVED ME!

...

I'm sorry.

I'm still bitter.

It's just that...

Every time I saw you inject insulin into your blood, every time you downed a pill, every time you wore a hospital bracelet like it was a fashion statement...

I kept thinking... God, if it could just be that easy.

You started crying once about how your condition was incurable. You went on and on and I could hardly restrain myself. You fucker, you think you're suffering? Oh, the horrible things I thought.

When you finally left the cafeteria all teary eyed, I was angrier than I'd ever been. My friends looked to me because they knew-- they KNEW what I was feeling. I just smiled and kept up the conversation, despite their nervous looks--

And none of them knew of the horrible decision, the ruthless action I'd just taken.

She came back to the table and asked me something-- I didn't listen. She no longer existed. She'd competed with me long enough and it was time I got rid of her.

No matter what she said I ignored it. I forgot about her. She no longer existed. It was petty and mean and awful but oh, so satisfying.

She was sent back crying again, angry tears this time. "Why won't you listen to me?!" To who? I'm sorry, did you hear something?

And my friends, they knew. They saw it immediately. They noticed how my eyes fixed on a point in the distance just across from me, and looked right past the eyes in the way.

And what I regret most is that they copied me. Seven empty stares where a focused gaze once was. An empty spot at the table when she finally, finally transferred, and I didn't have to live with her looming over me in that stupid way where she apologized and did nothing to make me angry.

I'm sorry, Rachel. The humane part of me is so, so sorry. I did something awful to you. I ruined two years of your life. I exiled you from the only friends you had all because of a silly bitter resentment. You'll always remember me and everyone we knew as monsters, as the bullies that we were.

But a tiny part of me wants to tattoo those years on the back of your fucking eyelids.

I'm sorry, Rachel. But I'm not.

(Some clarification because I feel bad! Rachel was a friend in seventh grade that had mild diabetes. She would only ever talk about things relating to it and it made me jealous of how she could control her condition, whereas I was stuck with incurable and uncontrollable narcolepsy for the rest of my life. I started ignoring her and pretending she didn't exist, and this led to her transferring schools because it became so painful for her. I regret this horribly and feel awful every time I think about it... But there is a part of me that's still very angry.)