There is a black card that appears whenever I don't have money.
Yes. I know. Super lucky I guess except where does this money come from?
It all started one day when I realized I had left my wallet at home. All I could hope was for myself to be unorganized enough to have left loose change or cash at the bottom of my purse to be able to pay the bus fare.
Desperate, I scrambled though the purse until I found a pocket unlike any before. Just a little slip at the bottom of a the bag which felt very vaguely like a card. But I don't have much other than a debit card and a few membership cards. Out of curiosity, I slipped it out of the pocket and come to find a sleek, black, gold rimmed card that seemed to faintly glow.
Looking at both sides of the cards, there was no name and I had no idea how it ended up in my purse. Desperate to get to the hospital, I used it to pay for the bus fare and made my way to the love of my life, my one and only best friend, Clementine Hardley.
I'm not joking when I say she is my only friend. She and I have gone through thick and thin, high and lows, and natural and man-made disasters that make us basically sisters.
More the quiet type, Clementine was the sun which lit up my life with her smile, gold hair, and upbeat demeanor and yet, she lay at the hospital bed looking dull and drained. I watch her from the window. I can tell it's something serious and yet she has refused to tell me.
I walked into her private room, greeting the guard with a nod before walking in. Although we had met under similar financial situations, Clementine's father had been lucky enough to have made good investments and propelled himself into wealth. The Hardley family became a sort of monopoly in the steel industry or something. Having known each other for so long, Mr. Hardly has always been kind and regarded me as another daughter. And so Clementine and I spent most of our time together. We laughed, we cried, we learned, we failed and ultimately, we were basically one.
As I quietly walked up to her bed, I can feel my eyes start to water but I stubbornly hold them back. We were both only 22. I don't know what she has but whatever it was made her face grey. Her arms were thin, her lovely eyes sunken, and her lips pale.
As if sensing my presence, she flutters her eyes open and I force a natural looking smile. She smiles back as if nothing and asks me how my work interview went.
It's been a few days since I had been fired. After finding out Clementine collapsed, I had rushed to the hospital and missed an important client meeting. Needless to say my employer was not happy and I was fired the next week after making a couple of other mistakes due to lack of sleep. Now, all I can do is look for a new job, but it's easier said than done, especially when I can't help but worry about my best friend, who seemed to only get worse. If I could I would concentrate my efforts into staying by her side, and yet she pushes me away.
So I tell her the interview went well. I give her a rundown of the proposed salary, benefits, and drawbacks. She listens and watches me as I speak. I can feel her gaze on me, but I can hardly look her in the eyes. I'm afraid that she will see the sadness and fear I am hiding inside. And maybe she did notice it because she pauses me and instead, she reaches out to me. Her hands, delicate and frail, she holds my hands and says, "Look, the hardships will pass. You are able to work anywhere. You are a genius after all. Don't stress, if anything you can work with my dad. He would be lucky to have you. Don't be scared ok?"
Forced to look her in the eyes, I could almost not contain my tears from falling. How could she be trying to comfort me when I am the one who is meant to be comforting her?
I quickly turn around and pretend to take a call. I excuse myself for a minute and head straight to the bathroom where I finally let out the cries of anguish I could not help but get out. There is something terribly wrong with my best friend and she won't tell me anything. No one tells me anything and I've tried asking the nurses, the doctors, the specialists- it's all confidential.
I could not feel more useless. I finally look at myself in the mirror, wet with tears, my mascara making me look like a racoon. I quickly wipe it off and apply a new face of makeup. There's no good way of getting my eyes less red but I can blame it on the lack of sleep.
I get back to the room only to discover Clementine is gone. Once again, no one will tell me where she has gone off to but all I can hope is that she is getting the medical treatment necessary to save her life.