Worst Nightmare

So... I usually write fiction. Sci-Fi, sometimes, but mostly fantasy. And I'm happy with that.

But the prompt said 'first thing that came to mind' and the first thing that came to mind wasn't something I wanted to cover up with spells and spaceships. I'm in the middle of a lot of projects. Lots of spells, and a little less spaceships, but still very, very impossible things.

I just wish this story fell into that category.

I don't make friends easily. Well- okay, that's a lie. I make friends easily. I don't keep friends easily- whether this is because of my foot-long list of mental health problems, my crippling trust issues, or the fact that I'm the weirdest person most high schoolers have ever met, I have yet to determine.

So, of course, I had... three? Friends at the start of high school. Most of them I'd met in middle school, but there was one of them who I didn't actually remember meeting, because we'd both known each other since we were two.

And in accordance with the universe's laws of 'screw you' this friendship turned out to be the most toxic one I think I'll ever have.

I'm going to skip over a lot of what happened. I came to the realization over the summer. I did an unhealthy amount of research. I did an equally unhealthy amount of crying when I finally admitted to myself that no, this wasn't good for me.

She wasn't good for me.

I'm running at a three out of three record for the girls I fall in love with stabbing me in the back, despite two of those falling into a time before I even realized that's what it was. But this one was... worse. So, so much worse.

I'd had nearly thirteen years to fall. And fall I did. Hard.

Realizing what this friendship really was was probably one of the most painful realizations of my life. I spent summer vacation begging myself to be wrong. She couldn't be that bad- I'd have noticed!

Except that, shortly after I got back to school, and the honeymoon phase of seeing her again ended, I realized that I had, in fact, noticed. My past self had chalked it up to us being too similar or too different (because no matter what trait it was you were discussing, we were either exactly the same or we were polar opposites), to her having a hard time or me forgetting to take my meds.

Unfortunately, an unhealthy amount of research meant an amount of knowledge and an amount of repeats that I couldn't ignore.

Some articles were simply lists of symptoms. Some were full essays, some were warnings.

All of them listed nearly the exact same symptoms of a toxic friendship with little variation, though. And I'm not stupid enough to ignore that many psych articles.

It took me nearly nine months to accept the things I'd learned. It took me an extra two weeks to cut off the friendship.

I spent the next two days trying not to break down completely. Someone once said that the saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies.

This was true, and I realized that in the most painful way I think I possibly could have. Realizing that the love of your life, however unconciously, is a manipulative control freak feels a little like... oh, getting run over by a freight train after they've stabbed you eighteen times and tossed you onto the track.

Most people tell stories like these with an intent. I'm not. Take from this what you will. All I know is that the only thing I got out of it was an inability to fully trust my own perception and another reason not to trust anyone.

Make whatever mistakes you like. But if someone happens to crawl into your heart and proceeds to destroy it, run. Do whatever it takes to keep them from chasing you, and run like your life depends on it.

Because I can tell you now, that your soul does.