Saturday, 5 February 2011
07:43:56 PM (GMT)
I remember the day I had to leave my best friend, Boncheechee. He stood in the
driveway, waving until I couldn’t see him anymore. My mom kept driving and driving
until we reached a large brick building with smaller buildings spread out around it,
all blocked in by a small stone wall. The stones on top of the wall looked like
broken teeth of some monster. I could see some areas fenced in by twenty-foot fences
with barbed wire on top. After we parked, some nice ladies helped me find a room and
get settled in. Mom left, and then I was alone. I thought about all the ways
Boncheechee had been there for me. He gave me confidence when I was nervous, didn’t
judge me, and he was my only friend. Boncheechee had promised he’d come visit me,
but he never did.
Whenever I was around people, I got nervous. People would look at me and I’d break
out in a sweat and start hyperventilating. It didn’t help that people looked at me
weird all the time. They used to not look at me weird, until the incident happened.
One day, my friend, Jazmine, had come over. I don’t really remember what came over
me, but I heard this voice inside my head saying to eat her! Later, when my mom asked
how I did it, I couldn’t remember. Jazmine’s mother has never been able to
forgive me, and no one’s been able to forget. Boncheechee would whisper in my ear
that people are only looking at me weird because they want to know what a person
tastes like, but they’re too scared to actually do it. That really helped. Now I
can look at people and see the longing in their eyes, instead of the fear.
There are a lot of things I never told anyone. I didn’t trust anyone to be able to
tell them. I could tell Boncheechee anything, though. The first time I heard the
voices was when I was six. I heard my grandpa talking to me. He told me that he
didn’t like where he was at, that he regrets doing the things he did to get there.
I didn’t hear anyone after that, not until I was nine. The next time I heard the
voices, they told me to break my mom’s favorite vase. It was purple and blue glass,
and looked just like the ocean. She demanded why I broke it, but the voices said I
wasn’t allowed to tell her. So I didn’t. I was sent to my room. Boncheechee asked
me why I broke the vase, and I told him about the voices. I expected him to say that
I should tell my mom, but he didn’t. He said that I should listen to the voices,
and do exactly what they say, because who knows what would happen if I went against
them. Boncheechee was there when I ate Jazmine. I know that eating people is wrong,
and they’re supposed to be nasty, but Jazmine tasted like bulgogi, a Korean dish
consisting of marinated barbecued meat. I didn’t think telling Jazmine’s mom that
her daughter tasted like bulgogi would be a good idea, and I knew my mom would think
I was crazy if I told her. Boncheechee asked me what she tasted like. I told him that
I want to see what other people taste like. He didn’t even bat an eye. Instead, he
said he’d always be there for me, even if I ate people.
I ended up eating the remainder of my few friends. The voices told me to eat them
too. Virginia tasted like pineapple. Mariah tasted like tempura. But Katie was my
favorite. She tasted like Hot Cheetos. I hid all their bodies in an empty field by a
church. Boncheechee helped me bury them. He said that no one ever goes into that
field. No one knows I ate them, but ever since they were reported missing, people
keep talking about how they think I ate them. It’s true, but I wish they’d just
come out and say it instead of whispering behind their hands and shooting me pointed
glances. Needless to say, Boncheechee was my only friend left. Even though I love
Boncheechee, it gets lonely being just him and me. All he wants to talk about is the
voices. Being able to talk to Boncheechee about the voices would be nice compared to
the people I talk to now. They don’t even really talk, just look at me funny and
mumble a bunch of stuff. We’re only allowed to visit the other patients here for an
hour a day, so the other twenty three hours are very boring.
I miss Boncheechee and all the memories we had together. I miss how he stuck with me
even if I like to eat people. I miss how he didn’t care about the voices. He helped
me get over being nervous around people, seeing that they were actually jealous
instead of fearful. Boncheechee kept all my secrets and never judged me, no matter
what I told him. He was always there for me, and kept me company after I ate all my
friends. I wish Boncheechee would come visit me like he promised. Who knows, maybe
he’s afraid of mental hospitals.
Could someone maybe edit it for me, before I have to turn it in? It'd be appreciated.