The Voice Within: Part 1

About a fortnight ago, one of my friends called. I had missed her call when she had called earlier, so she texted, asking me to call her back soonest possible. By the time I was seeing her call it was close to eleven o’clock at night, and knowing her, I was pretty sure she was deep in slumber. Furthermore, I could tell from the sense of urgency that something was wrong. Ergo, I texted her apologising for not picking up when she called.

As I had expected, she did not reply my text, until the next morning. She said she was not ok, and in any case, she was barely holding on to her sanity and was afraid she was at the verge of a massive mental break down. Obviously I panicked because every time she calls sounding so frantic, it’s never good. Unfortunately, it was early Sunday morning and I had to prepare for mass, so I asked her if I could call her once mass ended and she agreed.

Our phone calls usually go on for hours and I knew if I got started I would miss out on mass. As agreed, I called her back and she was crying uncontrollably. “Everyone was right,” she sobbed. At that point, I knew what the issue was and I really pitied her. It was about her relationship with her boyfriend. For the longest time, I had warned her the guy she was dating was a walking time bomb.

Though I had never met him, I hated everything I had heard from my friend about him. He cheated on her, and every time he feared she would find out, he would bring up an issue questioning her faithfulness to him, just to try and deflect the blame. My friend was always walking on eggshells, afraid that something would detonate the ticking time bomb he was.

The first time she broke up with him I told her it was for the best, and though she was hurting, she also concurred with me. Sadly, they got back together and I didn’t know what to tell her. She was voluntarily walking into a furnace, and I had no way of stopping her. She would burn, that was discernibly inevitable and much as I worried for her well-being, I could only sit back and pray for the best.

“What did he do?” I asked, dreading what she was going to tell me.

“It’s not what he did,” she sniffled. “But what he made me do”. My heart sank. That statement portended untold horror. Since I was already privy to what that guy was capable of, I took a deep breath, waiting for my friend to drop the bombshell. I knew it wouldn’t be good, but I also knew whatever the case, I would be there for her; because that’s what friends are for.

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