To My Shattered Soul

Our bonding kept getting stronger with each other, we kept enjoying every little moment we shared.

Laughing at silly things accidentally happening, for example, there was a time when Peter caught a cold and his eyes were swollen because of his flu.

He got closer and accidentally sneezed on the glass, and I jumped back as if he directly sneezed on me, I still remember how I covered myself with my hands, and how he kept laughing at me for acting that way.

Or like that other memory, we shared when he was so lost in the movie that he totally forgot he was holding a Popsicle in his hand and his mouth kept finding it until he found out how his poor Popsicle was lying on the ground looking at him helplessly.

And how I stayed quiet and watched it all happen just to see his reaction “You deserve that! Eating in front of someone when you know they can’t eat is a sin!” I gloated folding my arms and raising an eyebrow.

First, he kept looking at it in shock but after listening to me he smirked.

The next morning he got up took a shower as usual and threw his shirt on his bed, I’ve been gathering courage for some time so I can tell how bad his room appears to be.

So I yelled knowing how bad it can be? I mean we are pals now! Aren’t we?

“Stop!” He slowly turned around as if he was a victim in a crime drama and he’d been caught by the psycho killer, he wasn’t blinking he was just waiting for a knife to cross through his chest so I took a good aim and threw my knife at him, I mean I said what I wanted to!

“Pick your shirt back!” He leaned down his head as he misheard something so I repeated “I said pick your shirt up!” He picked up his shirt and stood straight for the next order like an obedient soldier.

“Now go and put it in the laundry” He was feeling awkward but he took it to the door anyway “Don’t forget your jeans” I grinned proudly, and right before leaving the room he passed a horrifying stare.

I waved my hand with satisfaction, at first I thought he would be angry at me but to my surprise, he started cleaning his room, dusting his desk, and removing webs from the corners of the wall.

He said he used to clean it twice a month but now he started doing it daily, my next demand was “Trim your beard!” when I said it he was looking at me like an angry bird, his eyebrows straightened enough to pinch the middle area of his eyebrows like arrows, no curves, nothing!

He turned his face avoiding me “I am not telling you to clean your facial hairs I am asking you nicely to trim your beard” I insisted besides he didn’t have a beard this big when I arrived first, and it makes sense it’s been more than 2 months when I first appeared here.

“I promised myself not to shave again” He fell on the bed.

“Okay.” Even though I just said it casually he thought I was mad at him so he stood up saying “Okay okay I will do it but not now!” He said and I started smiling.

He didn’t do it, but he made sure to keep me busy enough so I wouldn’t focus on his beard, he made me watch movies, a lot of them! not that I am complaining. I had fun watching them, he had a really good taste or maybe I felt that way because I hardly watched movies before.

And now I know what my favorite genre is and it is fantasy and sci-fi.

Peter says “We all have lives full of troubles, so instead of watching something that is relatable to our lives we will watch something that is just relatable to our dreams or imaginations” and I like the way he thinks.

He told me “I have watched a movie where the girl died and the boy lived with the pain of losing her and when I think there might be some people going through similar things I feel even depressed so if I am on a ship that is drowning and I can’t escape it.

I’d rather spend my last moments thinking about how will I fly cloud to cloud in my afterlife than getting depressed over how I will swallow a lot of water until I lose my choke at it”

When he said it, he made me laugh, but I was surprised about the way he thinks, if I was in his place I would’ve thought about a thousand ways of killing myself.

Well, the point is, I wanted to groom him, and I did, except for his beard, he started taking care of his room, which was a positive sign.

I wasn’t an enemy of his beard, I just hated the way he left it, bigger in some areas, short in some others, but then I remembered, how he never judged me on my looks and I stopped complaining.

“I am sorry I shouldn’t have asked you to trim your hair… I mean beard” When I said he smiled,

“I know you care for me, that’s what friends do for each other, keep telling them to do what’s best for them until they get annoyed,” He said and got to his bed and slept.

I was happy to finally make a friend and even such a good one, who takes care of his friends wholeheartedly, who spreads positivity with his loud laughter, and who comes back stronger each time he gets rejected.

I wish I had a high spirit like his, as much as I liked our friendship I also had fears in my heart, fear of losing the only friend I just made, but I never thought a stupid small reason would shatter or rip everything apart. If only I could get strong enough to face what was coming.