He Hates Me- Novel, Prologue
Ever since I was young, I've always been the kind of person to hold on to something and never let it go even if that something ended up hurting me in the process. I get attached to people abnormally quick for reasons unknown, and because of that, I'm usually the one with a broken heart in the end. Because I had a habit of giving them everything before I knew of their intentions.
So, I created a set of rules I planned to follow so I wouldn't find myself angered or saddened over something as simple as their names. But like all rules, they were meant to be broken and I let my guard down around two specific individuals. What a mistake that was.
I have been friends with Campbell for as long as I could remember. He was one of those friends you could count on when you needed him the most so naturally, I didn't expect him to leave, but he did. Right after the accident. As soon as he left the hospital, we stopped speaking. Many underserved tears were shed over the absence of my ex-best friend. It hurt knowing how much he blamed me for what happened, even if it kind of was my fault.
These days, his name is no more than a stain on my heart and poison on my tongue. The pain has faded but the bitterness had not, and with each passing day, I grew more independent. I didn't need the support of a friend, nor did I need any guidance, I'm fine on my own.
However, no matter how much I try, I can't forget the day we met or the day we fell apart....
**Flashback**
First Grade, August 20th, 2007.
Campbell moved to town during this year and he sat alone on the playground with a Toy Story lunchbox open on his lap. He sat beneath a shady tree and munched on some pretzels as he watched the other students run around and play. Nobody paid him any attention, or any mind, except for me. I, being the social butterfly I aspired to be, walked over to the tree as soon as we were set free and plopped right down next to him with a smile.
"Hi!" I chirped, sitting criss-cross next to him. "I'm Shyla, you the new kid, right?" Campbell glanced up at me, swallowing the bite of sandwich he had been chewing. His eyes were blue, lit with curiosity as he stared at me.
"Campbell," He mumbled.
"Campbell?" I asked.
"Yeah...l-like the soup. My father loved soup...that's where I got my name from," Campbell explained, "I don't know."
"That's so cool!" I gasped, "My name's boring."
"Is not, 'tis pretty. I like it," He objected, "But you know what's funny?"
"What?"
"My daddy's last name is Stewart..."
I giggled. Peering into his lunchbox, I gasped as I saw two packets of fruit snacks. Campbell noticed and picked up one of them, holding it out to me, "Want it?" I nodded eagerly and took it from him.
"Thanks."
***
Up until seventh grade, we'd been friends since that day, adding a new member to our group during third grade when we met Paige. Nothing but the forces of nature could pull us apart, I decided, and I was right. Because during the end of summer, right before school started up again- it happened. We went down to the lake by his grandpa's farm, our usual summer hang out spot, to spend our last day of freedom. We were bored and wanted to have fun, so along with me, I carried a rope.
There was a cliff that hung over the water and on the cliff was a tree where I tied the rope. I'd done this several times with my brother and I decided I'd show it to Campbell as well. I'd grab the rope and swing off of it into the water and it worked flawlessly. It was fun and the thrill made it so much better.
"Come on, don't be a buzzkill," I urged, "Just grab the rope and swing. It's not hard!"
"What if I fall? What if the branch breaks?" He asked anxiously. Campbell had always been one to fret while I was easy going, never considering the repercussions. With him, there was always a negative outcome, usually to the extreme. Or so he thought.
"Then you'd land in the water," I said manifestly.
"But there are rocks down there. What if I miss the water?"
"You'd have to be a real idiot to miss the water Campbell, it's almost right below the cliff! The water isn't even shallow, it's deeper than the poems Ms. Edwards made us read." With hesitation, Campbell eventually agreed, peeling off his shirt and preparing to grab the rope.
"Wait so you're sure this is safe?"
"Yes, Campbell," I said in exasperation. He threw his hands up in surrender and took a couple of shaky steps to the rope. Once he grabbed it, he stood there, waiting for the perfect time to take off. He gripped the rope tightly, you could tell because his knuckles were turning white as he took a step back, glancing at me for reassurance. I gave him a nod but as soon as he took off, I felt sick.
I heard splintering and I looked up at the branch which was weighed down by the rope and I started shouting at him to jump so he'd land in the water. When he heard me, he tried to dig his heel into the cliff as he got close but it was too late. It snapped and below he fell, and to my horror, he didn't hit the water.
When I managed to scale down the cliff I saw him, sprawled out on the sand in an odd angle. He was bleeding but from where I couldn't begin to guess. All I felt was panic. I climbed back up the cliff as fast as I could and grabbed my phone, speed dialing 911. Once they assured me they were on their way, I made my way back down to him. Again. I didn't move until the paramedics showed up and took him away...
Yes, Campbell sustained the fall with a couple broken bones. He had broken vertebrae in his spine but the doctors told us it didn't do much damage and he'd be able to do everything he could before...except sports. And that's what angered Campbell the most. He loved sports, it's what he lived for. Playing football in the fall and baseball in the spring, a summer internship at the YMCA... he blamed me for what he lost. I knew when I walked into the hospital room that day to visit him, something was off. He didn't greet me like he usually did and the TV wasn't even on. It was eerily quiet and the look on his face was that of anger.
"You lied to me," He spat when I asked him if something was wrong, "You said it was safe, I'd be fine. But I'm not! I"m not fine...I've lost everything because of you-"
"What are you talking about?" I asked, interrupting his tirade but he wasn't having it. He glared at me, swinging his legs off of the bed with a gasp of pain. "You told me nothing would happen to me. You said I'd be okay- that you did it and you were fine. I didn't...I lost everything- I hate you. Get out and go home Shyla!" He then started screaming obscenities towards me and I treated, telling myself he was just angry and in pain. But he never got over it.
Campbell was now homeschooled. Every time I came over he "wasn't home" and he never answered my texts. Even during Christmas, when I brought his gift over to his house. His mother opened the door and I asked her to give it to him. But it ended up back at my house, still wrapped, still clean.I used to wonder what I did wrong. I never meant to hurt him and he knew that. Even though we're no longer friends, the memory remains and no matter what I do I'm stuck with his presence and sometimes, I just wish it would go away.
I don't know if I mentioned this, but our third half died a few years after we met her. She got in a car accident on her way home from the airport with her parents. Perhaps that was when Campbell had begun to change and maybe I never realized it, all I know is that we made a pact. One that now means nothing. He broke his promise, written in blood and signed in perfect cursive. He chose not to acknowledge me in public, he chose to ignore it. He tries to pretend that we weren't anything more than strangers and that...that's what hurt me the most.
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Edited
October 31st, 2016
&
October 11th, 2017
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