This had to be one of the worst days of my life. In reality, nothing about today was much different from any other day. It was my mood that made everything more terrible than it actually was. Now that I think about it, how I happened to be feeling during certain events always impacted my outlook on that day. Maybe that’s why I’ve chalked up all of the days this week to be utterly horrible. I’ve been in an “I don’t care and I don’t want to look at you anymore” mood recently. It seemed that nothing could bring me back from this mindset, and I - of course - didn’t care. I probably wouldn’t be able to care for a long while.
My parents were gone, the bullies at school were as ruthless as ever, and today, my supposedly best and only friend went and turned their back on me. The only person I could have counted on to bring me out of this mood had to go and push me deeper into the dark. How wonderful. I highly doubted this day could get any worse.
The memories of what happened earlier suddenly hit me hard and out of nowhere. That stupid argument over something as small as the lack of attention my friend was getting from me was the whole reason they decided to stop talking to me. It’s not like I could help it. I’m busy dealing with my own problems. It’s hard to set up a time to hang out when you’re at home caring for your little brother while your parents are away.
Tari and I were friends since second grade. That makes five years. I can’t believe they’d throw away five years of memories over something as selfish as this.
Jumping at the sound of my little brother’s voice, I turned my head to see him standing in my bedroom doorway, a look of worry in his eyes. I sighed, looking away again. “What do you want, Peter?” It came out as more of a vexed statement than an actual question.
I payed no mind to his light footsteps as he walked over to my bedside, nor did I say anything when I felt him sit down beside me.
After a minute of silence, Peter asked, “Why are you crying?”
Surprised, I reached up to touch my cheek. Sure enough, I could feel the trail tears had left. How long have I been crying? Feeling something rolling down my cheeks, I realized I still am. Honestly, it was pretty embarrassing. At the same time, though, I couldn’t help it. Everything had become too much, and I guess that fight with Tari pushed me over the edge. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry in front of Peter. I never should have made a promise I knew I couldn’t keep.
“Sanson? Are you sad?” Peter asked, startling me out of my thoughts. Sighing, I nodded. There’s no use in lying now. “Yes, Peter. I'm is a little sad.”
“Why are you sad?” he prodded.
Setting a hand on his right shoulder, I replied, “Peter, you remember Tari, right?” He nodded, so I continued: “Well, she and I had a not so happy conversation today, and that made me sad.”
“Is Tari sad, too?”
Blinking, I thought about that for a moment. Is Tari sad? I’ve been so angry and upset, it never occurred to me that maybe Tari felt the same way I did. That maybe she was having just as bad a day as I was. “I… don’t know.” I answered honestly.
“I don’t want big brother and Tari to be sad. Can we go check on Tari? Maybe that will make you happy again!” Peter said, looking at me with his infamous five year old puppy dog eyes. I smiled at that. Peter has always been good at making me feel better without even trying. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Put on your coat, though. It’s a little chilli out.” I said with a wink. Peter didn’t understand the pun, but he giggled and scampered off to get his coat anyway. “Off to Tari’s house we go!” he cheered from downstairs. Chuckling, I shook my head. How could I ever think Tari was my only friend when I have a little brother like Peter?