Horror Story

She stood there, waiting for me to respond to her presence, waiting for my promised tears to start flowing, so she could comfort me like the greatest person ever. Kimberly had already said hello, so I was okay to go through with this. I needed Amanda out of my life. I walked over to her slowly. I didn't smile, but the tears came, and she held her arms out for me to fall into her false embrace. I wanted to, to hug her and inhale her warm, woodsy scent, but I couldn't. I stopped a yard away from her and held out the Cinderella video tape. "You can have this back." i told her gravely.
"What are you doing silly? Come here." she advanced a few steps and I backed away at the same pace, after handing her the plastic case. Her face fell as she lowered her arms. The tears flowed down my cheeks. I let them.
"What’s wrong Gizzy?" Amanda asked. I shook my head.
"Do not call me that. You may call me Gizmo." I told her, my chin quivering. Confusion came to her expression.
"Gizmo, I missed you. And you're crying. Come here and let me hug you." she told me. That did it. I stepped much closer to her, for once grateful that I was, in fact, a half inch taller than she.
"Do you have ANY idea what you did to me?" I almost screamed at her. Amanda's mouth fell open, and now I could see pain in her eyes. Good. I was shaking all over now. Kimberly must have taken a step forward because Amanda put a hand out to her, cautioning her to stay back.
"You don't know what you're saying Gizmo." Amanda said soothingly
"you suck at negotiating." I told her and it was only humorous because negotiating was her job. my face was hard with emotion. She thought I was joking, and reached to put her arm around me, saying,
“you went a little far for teasing that time Giz." I couldn't help it. I slapped her arm hard.
"I told you not to call me that. And DO NOT touch me. Now, do you have any idea at all how much pain you caused me? How much I cried? How many times I tried suicide? How many times I almost succeeded? I did that because I couldn't live with the pain YOU caused!" she took my warning more seriously this time, and backed away, rubbing her arm where I had hit her. I half expected her to pull her pepper spray or call for backup on her radio, but she didn't move. I kept yelling at her.
"What if that had been you? I wish it would've been. You deserve it. I know you couldn't help the transfer, but would it have been so hard to pick up your cell phone when I called? Or send an email? Or a letter, or even a picture? No, it wouldn't have been more time consuming then a few short minutes. Don’t pretend you had no idea. You knew DAMN well what that put me through!" I pulled the picture frame from behind my back. This was it. My eyes became faucets of salty water. My next move would do it. I cracked the frame and extracted her picture, shouting at her,
"this is what I spoke to, Amanda, this was you! You and this stupid frame! I thought you cared! I wrote to you, but these I didn't send." I threw the back of the frame back and grabbed my first note to her, reading,
"'dear Amanda, I lost my pictures of you. Why did you have to go? I’m ready to die of loneliness. Gizmo'." I flung it to the ground and pulled out the next one. She was crying now. It fueled my rage.
"'Amanda, when you left, you became a part of me. A cruel, dead part of me. Why don't you write? Do you even care about me anymore?' All of them, the thank you notes, the gifts, before you left, they meant nothing!!! NOTHING!!!" I was screaming now. Her cheeks were stained with running mascara. I balled her picture up and threw it at her face, she lifted her arm to defend herself, but it was too late. The picture bounced off her torso and landed right between us. I ground it under my foot.
"The picture is me! That’s all I am to you, isn't it?!" I screeched. Then for the finale, I got a good hold on the picture frame and ripped the plastic off it. She saw it coming, and tried to grab the frame from me before I threw it into the roaring camp fire. Her truck still idled at the head of our site. I pointed a fingernail, manicured in her favorite color for the occasion, at it.
"Go away. I don't ever want to see you again. You ruined my life. Go away." she turned to Kimberly, who just shrugged her arms and shook her head apologetically. Amanda opened her mouth one last time, but I silenced her with my expression.
"Do. Not. Speak." I went to Kimberly, then past her into the tent, looking over my shoulder to see Amanda pulling away, hurt her dominant emotion, rivers of makeup stained tears coloring her face. When she was gone, I went and watched the frame burn. I’d done it. She had the Cinderella movie she'd lent me so long ago, and my true feelings expressed to her. I didn't regret doing it.