L. Brown – Ballad of a Badass

The best and worst thing that ever happened to me began when I was ten. We met in fourth grade. Her hair was brown, tangled, and always in a ponytail. Our enforced uniform didn’t prevent her from wearing a forbidden hoodie everyday. She disregarded authority, even then. The teachers could sense that, they marked her as a problem from the moment she walked in the door. My goodie two shoes front fell away in front of her. We understood each other, even though we were as different as conceivably imaginable.

At that time I was still friends with Amelia, if only barely. We drifted, never arguing, just finding our orbits wanting different paths. Looking back, I realized that it was Abby who had forced us apart. Abby was manipulative like that; always needing everyone to be perfect for her use and disposal. We were friends because she wanted us to be. She was spoiled, everyone gave her what she wanted, no matter who got hurt in the process. Myself included, but that’s trivial now. There was only one person who couldn’t be drowned in Abby’s bull shit, and her name was Jade.

She walked in like James Dean through the class room door. A true badass in the school enforced khakis. At that point, I had no idea that we would fall together in a wonderful tangle. We would become perfectly in sync, flawed perfectly. Even with our differences, we were close. But that would all come later.

I was still concerned with the petty things, specifically what everyone thought of me. It was immediately obvious that Jade would drag me down if we became close. I dismissed her as another nobody. I thought she would sink right to the bottom of our tiny social pond. She surprised me, for the first of many times to come, by rising quickly.

Jade made herself known. She didn’t need Abby’s approval, in fact she convinced other people they didn’t need Abby’s approval to be cool. This mentality gained her quite the following. Soon, she gathered a small circle of close friends. Abby called them a cult, a gang, anything she could think of to discredit Jade, but when Jade heard it she made it her own. They played tug-o-war with my fifth grade class. One day Abby would hold power over Jade, spreading rumors and whispering behind hands. The next day, Jade would be back on top, simply for not caring what Abby said, convincing others to do the same.

It was in time that Abby, always the manipulator, wanted someone on the inside. At this point, Jade and Abby’s power struggle had amused me. I had already been starting to wiggle out from under Abby’s suppressing thumb. She saw me leaving and chose this mission for me, imagining that it would solidify my loyalty to her. I was also considered the domesticated rebel, if only in her eyes. Already feeling guilty about taking down an innocent person, I agreed. I had told myself that if Abby did anything immoral, I would ditch her, wrath be damned. I had just as much dirt on her as she did on me. Mutually assured destruction if either person faltars.

I was nervous. Jade was a terrifying person when you were on her bad side. I tried to convince myself we had no bad blood, she had no reason to needlessly tear me to pieces. Still, it took me two weeks to work up the courage to say hello. During those weeks, Abby and I staged a huge fight; I hung out alone and told all my friends that Abby and I were done. Behind the scenes, I set up a “secret” email. One where only Abby knew how to contact me. We talked strategy. I learned more about Jade than I knew about any of my friends. That’s how far Abby’s obsession went.

After these meetings it was time to actually talk to Jade. It went about as smoothly as expected. I told her that I wanted in, and she slowly let me breach her private circle. Abby and I emailed back and forth, trying to find something to topple Jade once and for all. Abby was angry because I wasn’t infiltrating fast enough. She started pushing me harder and harder, I was getting more pissed with each email. Soon, I stopped writing back all together.

That’s when the crap hit the fan. Abby sought me out in person. She screamed at me, terrible things with the intention of making me afraid. I am not ashamed to disclose that I screamed back. Punches were thrown. At the end, neither of us were winners, but she had convinced me to keep prodding Jade’s friends. I continued, but not enthusiastically. I felt my friendship with Abby collapsing under her constant pressure. I started to find solace in Jade’s company.

She was kind, but I was the smart one. She was also funny and passionate, fiercely defending anyone she cared about. After a while, I became a real friend to her. I dropped the facade. I started telling Abby things that were obviously fake so she would drop me. She never caught on. Eventually it became evident that I had to tell Jade what I was doing.  

I anticipated that Jade would be mad at me. My limited experience with confrontations were all with Abby, so you can fill in the blanks of how those went down. The last thing I expected was for her to laugh and invite me over to her house. It was okayed by both parental units, so Jade and I had our first official visit lined up. I thought she was going to kill me in the privacy of her own home. She insisted that I come over, feeding my growing anxiety.

That’s how I found myself walking into a perceived death trap. Her house was close to the school. It was modest, smaller than the one I was living in. The weirdest thing about it was the narrow staircase that lead upstairs. The walls were close together, We could only walk up in single file. The light was blocked out, the steps were thrown into strange shadows. They seemed foreboding even back then.

Her room was about how you would expect a ten-year-olds room to like. Dark purple walls, rumpled bed spread, evidence of childhood toys halfheartedly shoved in a closet. She had no books in her room but a bookshelf slouched next to her closet. It’s weird what I remember nearly seven years later. Not her favorite color or food, but the fact that she had a bookshelf void of any books. I guess I was coming to terms with what I presumed to be my final resting place. My body was tense, anticipating the first hit. The hit never came.

I was so focused on not getting slapped that I didn’t even hear what she said. Eloquently, I said, “Huh?”  Jade started laughing again, which I saw as a good sign.

She repeated her question again, practically yelling. “I asked you if you liked my room.” I nodded and explained that it was so much better than my room, which was yellow and straight out of a punk rockers nightmare, all frills and sunshine. She laughed again. This was going well, I was able to relax and enjoy our conversation until the dreaded statement fell out of Jade’s mouth.   

“So you’ve been spying on me for Abby.” I froze. We were doing so well at pretending we had a normal friendship. I glanced around the room looking for something to distract Jade and to avoid looking in her eyes.  Finally, I was able to choke out,

“She asked me to. I sent her emails for a while. They were mostly stupid rumors about you. I stopped after a really bad rumor went around, the one about you being to juvie. Abby got mad at me and we had a huge fight. She knows something about me that would make me look really, inexplicably bad. I’ve been talking to her less and less, trying to get away from her.”

Jade consider this new information in silence. I sat there, staring at her. I realized that I wanted Jade’s respect and friendship. It wasn’t like with Amelia where I felt like we owed it to each other, and it was the opposite of Abby’s and my relationship where I needed constant approval. I opened my mouth to apologize, a rarity for me back then. For what seemed like the hundredth time, Jade surprised me.

“So you send Abby fake stuff about me. And I did go to juvie, but it was only for three weeks. Minor vandalism. There’s no smoke without fire.” I had nothing to say about her admission of criminality. I felt it was true at the time, and I felt it strongly some time later. Looking back, I can’t help but think she was exaggerating, if not blatantly lying. She was always tough, but I never considered her a bad person. Maybe I’m wrong, she was an unpredictable hurricane next to my calculable waterfall. It was this combination that lead to the plan to discredit Abby. The first part of the plan was solid. We came up with 25 fake facts about Jade for Abby, and five more for ourselves.

I had intentionally abandoned Abby without remorse. Jade was the new center of my universe. I couldn’t tell if Abby felt our bond breaking, but to me it was like a physical weight being lifted from my back. The chains I didn’t know existed unexpectedly breaking. That day was the beginning of so much, but the end of predictability. My life spiraled in and out of control and comfort. A broken symphony, playing a variation of the same song, subtly and inexplicably changed. It was wonderful, and terrible, all at once. I took a leap, and I am still here in the dust wondering if it was worth the fall.

Abby fell for our trick, and she became jaded and lonely. Attentions turned elsewhere, mostly back to Jade and her “gang”, as everyone started calling them. I felt myself gravitating towards  the more exciting part of my rebel life. I hung out with Jade increasingly, worming my way into the close ranks. Soon, I was a full fledged member of the gang. We didn’t do much at school, just the occasional prank and wise crack, but I felt like the most rebellious kid ever.

After school was a different story. Jade was the only fully fledged criminal that I knew of. She would go to the generic grocery store in between her house and the school. The first time she brought me along she told me she trusted me. I was informed that I was special and would have to make it through this experience. The undertones let on that this was the test. If I failed, I would be excommunicated. At this point in the relationship, my fascination with Jade had turned into true caring. I trusted her in the way only an innocent child can trust anyone subjectively better than themselves. I would prove myself, keep my mouth shut and play along.

I watched as she strolled casually up to a shelf, one covered with colorful cardboard, each filled with a different, yet equally processed food. She walked to where the granola bars were stacked and opened the box. I stood silent, my shock growing more profound as my morals were thrown into question while Jade quickly stuffed four bars into her shirt. She walked away, urging me to follow. I forced the horror off my face, adopting a neutral expression instead. We walked around the store, randomly going down the aisles. After many minutes of me questioning everything my parents had taught me about right and wrong, we walked out without any alarms going off. I figured that we were in the clear.

Jade turned the corner in the direction of her house and I followed reluctantly. I regretted my short escapade into crime, but I felt I was involved already. I was fairly certain that Jade was in a mob. I was so busy figuring out how to tell my parents that I was going to prison that I didn’t notice that she was talking to a fence up ahead. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. I caught up and listened, assuming that this was the secret entrance to the mob boss’s headquarters.

“Jan, are you there? I know you wanted to come to this corner today with Lisa. I brought some food.” Probably not an underground mob operation run by elementary school students. I was still processing this wonderful information as a small latina woman crawled slowly out of the shadows. I waved, always the people pleaser. She said something hushed to Jade, her eyes never leaving mine.

“This is my friend, Summer,” Jade said, pushing me forward, “she doesn’t bite. She hardly even barks.” I let out a shaky laugh, but stuck out my hand. She grabbed it, but just barely. It was like holding a small animal. I didn’t want to squeeze her hand with fear that her timid manner would turn feral, or run away in a panic. While we were busy exchanging mismatched pleasantries a kid, younger than Jade and me, came up and grabbed Jade. Jade lifted her over her head, turning in a circle.
“Hey there, Lisa. How was school?” Lisa laughed, and spun her fingers around in dizzying patterns before answering that it was good. Jade reached into her pockets and pulled out a granola bar. While she handed it to Lisa, the women I presumed to be Jan scolded Jade for shoplifting, but thanked her. That’s when I noticed that Jan and Lisa were wearing old, dirty clothes. They were homeless. All the guilt lifted from my body.

When we got back to Jade’s house she thanked me.

“For what?” I asked, thinking that I hadn’t done anything right or wrong. She told me that I hadn’t ratted her out, the first good thing. Then, she said, that I treated Jan and Lisa the same even though they were less fortunate.

I sat down on her bed, next to her. Watching her as she gazed up at the ceiling, completely aware of my existence next to her. She smiled, the right side lifting up further than the left. I remember that, even all these years later. It was in that moment, looking over at her lopsided smile, that I knew that we were friends until the end. I lay back on the bed with her. Her ceiling was covered in hundreds of plastic, glow in the dark stars. Her room was outer space, far away from school and her parents and life in general. The one place she truly became herself.

We talked for hours on her bed, until the real stars made their bright appearances in the sky. That’s when I noticed the first few cracks in her badass mask. Her parents started fighting, quietly at first. Soon, it became a crescendo of hateful words, spat at each other, cutting like knives. Jade cried. I pretended not to notice as each tear ran down her cheek. I didn’t want to make her feel insecure. I lay there completely still, trying to preserve her dignity, when Jade grabbed my hand and pulled me up to my feet.

She crossed over to her window, overlooking the backyard. She yanked it open and popped out the screen. I stood watching as she disappeared onto the roof. There was no way in hell I was sneaking out. But then Jade said something that made me crawl out next to her.

“Please?” I could feel the weight of the word as it fell out of her mouth. She needed a friend, someone to share her pain. To drape it over us like a blanket, relieving some of the pain. I climbed up into the window, pausing at the ledge. What would happen if I fell? I’d most likely die a very slow and painful death. I pushed the thought out of my mind as I climbed up to the roof. Finally, after what felt like hours of almost falling from the sky, I got to where Jade was. She had a blanket and bottle of alcohol. I settled in next to her, pulling the blanket over both of us.

Jade took a long drink from the bottle. She didn’t offer and I didn’t ask for any. I was still a goodie two shoes at heart. I snuck a quick glance over in her direction. Her tears had dried, her mask was back in place, though it was harder to see where the edges were. I looked away, out across the rooftops. I thought about how I never really knew Jade, I never would. She was holding onto something bigger than herself, bigger than both of us. I couldn’t see what it was from where we were sitting. As time passed it grew bigger until Jade would disappear completely within this monstrous thing.

After staring at the rooftops blending into the increasingly darker sky, Jade whispered her less terrible secrets. That was her stepfather and her mother. They hated each other but loved what they could get from each other: drugs and sex. They fought, and their anger spilled over and drenched Jade. She felt like she was drowning.

After many more nights like this, spent on the roof with either alcohol or cigarettes, I learned more about her than I did on the ground. She had a stepbrother, but she hated him. I only met him once, he was a football player. His arms were bigger than my head. He scared me, and Jade found it hard to look him in the eye. If she was timid around her stepbrother, she was fierce around her stepfather. They hated each other and made sure that it was crystal clear to everyone else. They reminded me of rabid dogs, circling around each other, snapping at one another seeing who would attack first.

One day after a particularly terrible school day, Jade told me to come over with my backpack, bike, dark clothes, and all the courage I had. I obliged, the look on Jade’s face was enough to convince me that she would do this with or without me. I vowed to be the voice of reason, perched on her shoulder. As soon as I arrived, Jade stuffed a bottle of vodka into my backpack, along with a water bottle and some matches.

We took off, her leading like a king would lead his army. We came upon a large warehouse. It was blank, white, no different from any of the other ones that lined the block. I couldn’t have pointed it out to you if you told me too. Jade seemed to know where we were going, I trusted her with my entire being. Her vulnerability made her stronger, the fact that she could turn her feelings on and off was something that I would replicate after, throwing her own personality over me. My safety blanket.

Her face became a hard mask of fury. Her hands were clenched tightly on her handlebars, her eyes glazed over as we circled to the back of the building. Jade left her bike on the ground, motioning for me to do the same. She pulled the backpack off of me, shaking me nearly to the ground. I stood awkwardly to the side as she pulled the glass bottle out of the pink and yellow backpack.

“Go wait on the other side of the building. If you see any cars, especially police cars, come back here and get ready to run.” Jade directed at me, not looking over her shoulder. I ran to the side of the building, my hands dragging along on the peeling white paint. I crouched down behind a dying bush and stared intently at the road. The payvment winked back at me while Jade started on her project. The street stayed empty.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Jade called me back. She had two bottles of vodka in her hands, her feet were shoulder width apart, in a defensive stance. She faced the building, her hair falling out of the ponytail, framing her face. Her eyes were wide, but looked like they were full of the kind of pain that press against your eyelids, forcing the tears to escape, but she wasn’t crying. She was standing completely still, until finally she said,

“This is where he works,” She turned her head slightly towards me, “it’s also where he sells his drugs.” I took a step forward, reaching out for her. She tensed and I let my arm fall to my side, defeated.

“Jade, why are we here?” I asked, whispering. I was scared, of what Jade could do, and of what her stepdad does. Jade finally broke out of her numb staring match with the blank wall. She pivoted to me smiling.

“See those trash cans?” she asked. I looked around her. Lined neatly along the wall were two big trash cans, the kinds behind schools and grocery stores. I nodded, slowly bringing Jade’s face back into focus.

“We’re going to light them on fire.” I laughed thinking it was a joke. Jade just rolled her eyes and handed me a bottle. I stood there, smile fading off my face and blood slowly rushing out of my head, as she lit a cloth that was hanging out of the bottle with a tiny red lighter. The flame enveloped the limp rag while Jade took the bottle out of my hand and threw it into the dumpster near me. Without pausing to watch the flames rise, Jade lit the other rag and threw it into the other bin. The flames licked up the sides of the building, threatening to burn the whole thing down, but never catching.

Jade backed up, the flames lit up her face. The shadows made her beautiful and terrifying, like a queen. I could only watch her, watching the fire. My eyes burned from the smoke, and my nose ran from the smell. Her face stayed masked, even in the growing heat. She watched until the flames had spread across the tops of the bins, until there was only fire. Finally, she turned away. She walked back to the bikes, hopped on and rode away. I tried to catch up to her, scrambling for my fallen bike. We arrived back at her house at the same time. She threw her bike on the lawn and ran into the house. I watched as she slammed her front door, my bike hanging in my limp hand. I stood watching the door, urging it to swing back open. It didn’t.

I went home.

I should have known then that something was wrong. Jade shut me out. She shut me out because I knew her secrets. I was the only person who saw that she was in pain and I did nothing.

We went to different middle schools, the distance tearing us apart further. We didn’t talk for months until, one day out of the blue, she called me. We arranged to meet up in the park near my house. Like puzzle pieces, we fell back into the same comfortable spaces we had so often occupied. Things were finally back to normal, a calm before the storm.

We hung out more and more. It was the final shred of normalcy that I had. Abby came back with a vengeance, trying to ruin our lives. She succeeded, but I had no idea how bad it was hurting Jade. Then I saw it, the picture fully saturated in color. It was too late. She was too far gone, oblivion had sunk its selfish hands into her brain and pulled. She was gone.

This is not a happy ending. Don’t read if you can’t handle it. Just know that  I don’t blame you. It kills me every time I tell this story. For this, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Jade, I should have saved you.

It was a Tuesday. A normal, boring Tuesday in the middle of third quarter of sixth grade. Jade and I were walking to her house after school, after meeting at our old stomping grounds. I could tell something was wrong but couldn’t bring myself to pry. She hated talking about school. I figured it was something there that was bothering her. We were walking side by side, carefully dancing around her mood in our conversation. She asked me if I could stay over. I told her my mom needed help with dinner, but I could be back at six. Anything to get out of the raincloud of emotion.

I wish I stayed. I went left and she turned right, before she disappeared I called out,

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”  She turned to me, smiling sadly and replied,

“I won’t.” Those words stuck to my brain then, they’re still here now. She never replied with that. Normally she told me to screw off, or something equally as immature. I walked home, turning it over in my mind.

I couldn’t tell you what we had for dinner that night. I can’t tell you what I did, or if I watched t.v. or even if I did any homework. That night was supposed to be normal, forgettable, unimportant in the history of myself. All I remember of that terrible night starts when my mom dropped me off in front of Jade’s house and drove away. My last moment of normal before everything was tainted.

I walked in, the front door was unlocked. Her mom was curled up on the couch, all the lights off. She was staring at the muted t.v., her face illuminated by the changing pictures. When I stepped into the kitchen, she turned around, scared. I asked her where Jade was. Her eyes darted to the stairs then back to me.

“I think she’s in her room. Summer, you don’t need to be here, you can go home. If you want.” Her mom thought Jade was lost, crazy, not worth saving. She told me once, drunkenly, that Jade was a mistake. She never wanted her, wished she was gone. I know Jade heard her. It didn’t matter, I still loved her in the way only best friends can. I walked up the narrow stairs to her room. The light was off in the staircase. The hallway was dimly lit by a cracked door at the top of the stairs. The bathroom.

The water was running, brought by the silence of the rest of the house. I called out for Jade, turning towards her room. The light in her room was off, the room empty, so I went back to the bathroom. The door was open but I still knocked. The door lurched open, only to be stopped. It was her foot. I slipped in through the door, anticipating a sobbing, angry Jade.

What I saw was so much worse. The tub had filled all the way, the water had spilled over on to the floor. There was lipstick on the mirror and smashed glass in the sink and the floor. An empty orange pill bottle sat floating in the water, the pills scattered throughout the room. Floating in the water on the floor, there was puke and so much blood. There was too much blood. Jade was face down in the water, but she was moving, thrashing, on the floor.

I rushed to her side and turned her over. She gasped for air, but she was so pale. And her eyes, her eyes were dim. There wasn’t much left in her. I propped her up against the cabinet, begging her to stay with me. I ran out of the bathroom, screaming for her mother to call nine-one-one.

The water was still on in the bathroom when the paramedics arrived. I hadn’t bothered to turn it off. My hands and pants were soaked in a disgusting combination of blood, water, and puke. There were so many people trying to save her, but she didn’t want to be saved.

They told me that she died on the way to the hospital, but she had been dead for months. I couldn’t have saved her. It was all my fault, if I had been there, if I had been a better friend maybe she would still be alive. I wasn’t strong enough to face the facts. I knew she was in pain and I did nothing.

The next few weeks passed in a dark haze of police interviews and weak coffee dripping with sympathetic glances. Everyone wanted to make sure I was okay, not going to kill myself. I don’t know why this same level of attention wasn’t given to Jade when she was still alive. If she’d have known that everyone cared, maybe… but it doesn’t even matter. She’s dead and no matter how much I blame myself, she will remain six feet under, trapped by her own stupid decision. It hurts. Seven years later and I’m still in so much pain.

When she died, it was like someone took me and threw me on the ground. I shattered. My days of being an untouchable rebel were lying in shards at the bottom of a sealed coffin. When she died, I did too. There was nothing left for me, my future was completely planned out with her. I never could have imagined this life, now I was forced to live it. It was so dark, so lonely, those first few weeks. Now, the world still has no light, I’ve just learned not to be scared of the dark anymore.

Everything after has been a haze. This one terrible event has broken me. She was the most amazing person I have ever had the pleasure of watching the stars with, she was my outer space.

 

By oRIDGEinal

Remy Garguilo is the Sponsor of the oRIDGEinal literary magazine at Fossil Ridge High School.