Watch And Wait

• Fatimah Beydoun, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2022

I had a best friend, in fact, we went everywhere together! We were in the same class at school and were inseparable. Today we had maths first, and I stared at the clock impatiently because she was late. Carla was never late. Finally, she walked in, and I couldn’t suppress a gasp as she sat down. She had a black eye, and her arms were covered with bruises she was clearly trying to hide.

‘What happened?’ I hissed, tears filling my eyes which I batted away impatiently.

‘Nothing.’ She whispered, ‘I’m fine.’ Then she turned back to the front, keeping her eyes determinedly on the teacher explaining our lesson.

I didn’t know what to do, because she clearly wasn’t fine. But I stayed silent.

Carla’s injuries got progressively worse that term until sometimes she needed help standing up. Whenever I demanded to know what was happening, she brushed me away saying it was nothing. It left me with a burning sense of sorrow and resentment. Did she not want to be my friend anymore?

Then I realised she was going through a tough time right now, and I couldn’t stop our friendship when she clearly needed me the most. So I made a plan. I decided to follow her home from school one day to investigate.

The bell rang and the scraping of chairs was all I could hear for a minute. Carla lived close by, so she walked home, making it easier for me to follow. My breath caught as I watched her finally walk into her house, her fingers fumbling with the key. What was I doing? Could I be arrested for this? I wasn’t sure if it was illegal, but when people followed someone in a movie, they usually got shot. But I shook my head firmly and followed. This was for my best friend, and I would do anything for her.

I crept inside, shaking like a leaf as I searched for somewhere to hide. Carla’s house was small, there were just two rooms and a kitchen and lounge area, so I knew she would come out soon to have a snack. I hid in the cupboard, peering through a crack, grateful her parents weren’t around. She finally came in and began making a sandwich when I heard a CRACK! Then a squeal followed. Carla's eyes filled with tears, and she tensed. There was another crack, and then the door burst open and her mother ran in, hands shielding her head, followed closely by a tall man I assumed to be Carla's father. I could only watch, horrified as he slapped them both with one hand, whilst taking regular swigs off a bottle with the other.

I finally understood what was happening to her, and felt tears slide down my cheeks. It wasn’t fair! I knew I had to do something to help her, and I will. But now I could only watch in horror, witnessing things my mother has shielded me from all my life.

Watch, and wait.