The Road - Part 3 of ?

I remember many years ago a student, a little older than me, was killed in a car accident.

I didn't know him.

I vaguely knew his siblings.

It was sad that a life had been lost at such a young age.  Incomprehensible, really.  The weight of the loss could be felt throughout the school.

Sometimes, in life, there isn't enough time given to heal such deep wounds.

A few weeks later, one day in the hall, a group of girls looked at me and rolled their eyes.

I immediately thought of my clothes.  Or my hair.  Or my face.

My appearance was the general subject of disdain.

Instead one girl, who was my "friend", broke away from the pack, apparently their spokeswoman, came forward and said,

"We heard what you said."

Not even having a remote idea what they were speaking of, I responded the only way I knew how, "What?"

I was all too familiar with the pain in my stomach that had started and the way my throat hurt when struggling not to cry.  Although I didn't know yet how she would answer, I knew all too well how the story would end.  I had seen it before. Just a different girl cast to play the role of the villain.  This time it was me.

And yet, I still didn't know how twisted this story would be.

"You said that you were glad that {he} died."

Astonished that anyone could even utter a phrase such as that, I stammered.  Looking back, that probably played into the part nicely, making me look even more guilty.

"No!  I never said such a thing.  I didn't even know him.  Why would I ever say such a thing?  Why would anyone ever say such a thing?"

I was panicked and struggling and talking faster by the moment.

I cast my eyes to my "friend" pleading silently with her to state what she knew was true.  "You believe me, right?  You know I would never say that?"

The other girls looked at her expectantly.

I held my breath.  Them against me.  A feeling of dread starting washing over me from head to toe....

She looked me square in the eye and flatly said, "I heard you say it."

That was it.  It was over. 

I exhaled sharply.  I was a goner.  There was no redemption.

Her word vs. mine.

She was my "friend".

I was broken.  This had surpassed the usual school drama.  This had jumped right into the unforgivable territory.

For me.  And for her.

Or so you would think....

Ironically, or should I say, expectedly, there wasn't a crowd present the day my "friend" returned to my side, admitting she had 'made it up'.  Sadly, instead of questioning the possible reasons someone would ever do that to another person, I felt a little of the weight lift off of me as I nodded my head and forgave her.  Almost as if on cue I watched as the pack of girls that had uttered accusatory remarks and hateful stares only a week or so before, walked by me in the hallway talking amongst themselves.  As they neared me standing by my locker they looked at me and smiled.

I waved, glad that I, at least for that day, was back "in" and wondered what she had told them to clear my name - without tarnishing hers.

I don't think I realized then that this world is full of people that will believe what they hear and hear what they believe.

I shut my locker and walked away....