SECRETS, Ginny Georgekutty

SECRETS, Ginny Georgekutty

Bright, Blue eyes stared back at me. My Guilty conscience Reflected in their depth. I knew I could not keep it from her much longer. But, how do you tell a friend this secret, a memory I’ve kept hidden for years in hopes it would disappear?

“Well?” she said as she took a step back. Her eyes no longer pierced my conscience, but rather pleaded for entrance. I could not tell her. It would tear her apart. No, worse, it would drive her away and she was the last friends I had. Well maybe not the last, but the only one, I knew for sure, I could trust and understood my life for what it was. I could not lose her.
“What?” I asked again for the hundredth time, hoping she would drop the subject.

“You know very well what” she replied sternly.

Well, so much for that. There was no way I could stop her from asking. Maybe it was time to let it out and ‘clear my conscience.’ I gazed to the side and sighed.

“Okay, I’ll tell you. Promise that we’ll still be friends?” I said, my hands out, ready to seal the promise.

“Of course” she said, embracing my hands in our secret handshake. I could sense some hesitation as she did so, but I ignored it.

I plopped into the nearest chair, trying to sort out how to tell her such a secret. I looked up at her, her blue eyes more impatient by the minute. Well, here it goes. I took a deep breath and began.

“Well, I have this secret, but not a normal kind of secret. You know, like those secrets about a secret crush or a hidden fear. It’s worse than that. That was part of the reason I didn’t tell you or anyone for so many years. I also didn’t know how you’d react or how to tell you this without bluntly doing so.”

“Well, that’s what friends are here for, right? Friends never leave you because of a secret” she replied with a comforting smile. Whether it was sincere or afraid I did not know.
Nevertheless, my face eased and I relaxed a bit. Maybe it wouldn’t turn out that badly. So, I continued.

“It was one of those unclear moments, you know?”

She looked at me confused so, I explained.

“You know those moments where you can’t quite figure out if you should do the right thing or the wrong thing. When you are stuck between the two, each of them as appealing as the other, maybe even more?”

Her eyes widened as I finished, maybe starting to realize just what kind of a secret I had. Maybe she was beginning to think I no longer was the girl she thought she knew for so many years-the humble, morally good person she had trusted. I hesitated. Maybe I was wrong.
“You okay?” I asked, hoping she was not thinking what I thought she was thinking.

Her eyes sank back down and she nodded, attempting to smile as she had before. But, I could see right through. I did not even BEGIN to tell her my secret and I had already scared her off. Maybe there was still time to make things like it was before the moment I decided to go through with this mess.

“You know what? Just forget about it. It’s nothing, really.” I said, trying to drive her away from those thoughts, the suggestions of what I might have done. I think it took her awhile to process it all because only 10 minutes later did she snap back and realized I had stopped.

“Why did you stop?” she asked with her anxiety itching to pull free.

“Were you even listening?” I asked, maybe slightly angrier than intended. I wasn’t upset at her, well, not really. I mean, I would have reacted the same way. Maybe not so early on, but I would’ve reacted the same way, right? So, why did I respond in such an irritated tone? Was I hoping inside she would’ve been different? That she would’ve listened to my story before flipping out? That she would’ve understood?

But, she simply gazed to the side, as if a figure stood there watching.

“I have to go. It’s getting late and my mom’s probably worried.” She said with anxiety dancing upon each word.

She got up and started to leave, but I simply stood there watching. Just give her some time, I thought. She just needs some time to absorb it all, I reassured myself. Little did I know that it was the last time I would see her. By tomorrow, her family had moved and no-one had a clue where.

Who knew such a secret could cause so much chaos? Even half-revealed, the secret left me to live my life alone with the burden of such a secret heavier than ever before. Yet, perhaps such a secret saved me from a friendship I was not meant to have, a friend whose comfort was as fake as her words. “Friends never leave you because of a secret”—unless such a secret was as deadly as mine. Even unsaid, my secret was deadly as a poison seeping in your veins.

Do you believe in secrets?