I had a friend turn sister, at least that's what I thought. We were so close that people thought we were sisters. We share everything together: clothes, secrets, and dreams. She knows all my pains; she is the first I tell all my wins to, and I cry on her shoulder if anything goes wrong in my life. But if a prophet had told me that my own bestie hated me secretly, I would have laughed at him and called him fake. That's how much I trusted her. You see, life has a way of showing us who people around us are.
Her boyfriend has set up a competition between us, something fun at first. A challenge that came out of our argument, he said, was to settle our small dispute and to know who is more creative. I didn't take it too seriously. I just gave it my best not to prove anything to anybody. In the end I won, we laughed, and she congratulated me. We hugged, cracked a joke, and she even told me that she is proud of me. Well, did I believe her? Yes, because why not? I didn't know that deep down, she was very angry and had vowed in her heart to make my life a living hell.
It started when every little thing I do suddenly now pisses her off, things I did before and she found funny. She gave me a cold stare whenever she thought that I was not looking. Whispers to people when I enter a room, although I keep having a gut feeling that something is off, but I brush it off. I thought I was just imagining things.
Then came the accident, or what I thought was an accident. One evening, I was alone, reading a book on the balcony. When a heavy flowerpot from the balcony above came crashing just seconds after I stepped out of the way. It missed by inches if my phone hadn't rung inside the room and I hadn't bent to put on my slippers at that exact moment. It would have hit my head. I don't think I would have survived it.
People rushed over, saying it might probably be the wind or maybe a loose railing. I was thankful to God that I was alive. I still felt something wasn't right. After some other missed attempts, I later found out the truth. A neighbor who couldn't stand what she was doing anymore came to me. She told me everything, how she has been burning with jealousy since after the competition. How she will tell them that she will make me regret crossing her, that she will make my life a living hell. How all the missed accidents weren't accidents at all. She had planned it all.
My world stopped moving. This was the same person I have fought people for saying bad things about, someone I cook and eat from the same pot with, who has worn my clothes, who swore to always have my back, and who is now the one plotting against me behind my back.
The worst part wasn't even the plan but how she always pretends to care each time. I missed all her schemes, her smiling at me while secretly wishing me harm. Her hugging and asking me to pray that all this might be attacked. This was a betrayal on a level I never imagined.
I confronted her. She denied it at first, but the evidence was there. And when she realized I knew everything, she didn’t even look sorry. She just stared at me with a coldness I’d never seen before and said, “You should’ve lost.”
I confronted her. She denied it at first and started crying, but the evidence was there. When she finally realized I knew everything, she didn't even pretend to look sorry at all. She just stared at me with a kind of coldness and wicked grin I have never seen before and said, “Why are you always the best? Can't you just fail for once?. You should have lost the game; now you make me look like a brainless girl in my boyfriend's eyes.
I felt a tightness in my chest, and then it hit me that jealousy can turn a good friend into your worst nightmare, and you might not see it coming.
I didn't say anything to her; I walked out, blocked and deleted her number from my phone, and I stopped picking up her calls no matter how many new numbers she used to call me. Not only that, but I never bother to explain myself to people whenever they ask me what happened. I just knew I couldn't let someone like that stay close to me ever again.
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