True Friendship Never Dies Essay

“A friend in need is a friend indeed.”

Friends are an important part of our life . Life without friends is as awkward as a tree without leaves. To make friends is a very easy task but if they lose trust in you, to get back that trust is very difficult task. Integrity and truthfulness in friendship will always pay you back. We never lose friends in life but we realize that who the real one’s are!!

I realized true friendship on the night of New year . Since the winter solstice I was not talking with Robin, my best friend but I think it was my fault due to which our friendship broke. But I hoped that he would forgive me but it wasn’t so… ,he took it seriously. Since then I was feeling forlorn and sad. Happiness had flown away from my life. An important part of my life was missing.

On Christmas eve I glanced that Robin was in trouble. He got surrounded by street dogs. I knew that he had cynophobia ,so I went to help him. He was happy to see me but denied to accept it. I realized it by seeing in his eyes which were mingled with tears of joy , sorrow and anger. I implored him to forgive me but he just stayed placid and thanked me and went back , as if I were a stranger for him.

Actually what happened on the day of winter solstice was that I ditched Robin. But it was ambiguous that he doesn’t know. Few days before I consulted the oracle and it gave me the prophecy that :-

“ The vows that you have made will malice the emotions of your ally

Your perpetual friendship will surely have an end

Your unnecessary benefits will increase his mirth of disgrace

Leading to the deaths of three , reaching to the infinite phase!!”

I was unable to understand it . but it is said that it always comes true. On that day there was personality competition and I was sure to win . I glanced that Robin was trying very hard this time. So I promised him that I would not submit my form for the competition. He was very happy to hear this. But when the results came we were shocked to hear the winner’s name , it was me. I didn’t understand that how my form reached there but I didn’t even had an evidence to prove Robin that I haven’t ditched him purposely, it was ambiguous. Someone had played a prank with me . Our friendship broke . I observed that he was seriously depressed. He took an oath that he would never ever talk with me again.

Today is New year night. I was still not able to understand the prophecy . I was talking to my myself and suddenly I clashed with a guy. He was none other but Robin. He just said sorry and went on. I felt audacious and went towards him and told him that it was not my fault . I begged him for forgiving me. He said that I will forgive you  but for me dignity and trust will always be low for you. He said so and went towards a lonely street. I followed him secretly. It was a dark winter night and all fog around I was unable to see anything. Suddenly I saw a flash of a torch . I went towards it and on the bicycle was no other but Robin. He had forgiven me and we were friends again. I told him about the prophecy but he too was unable to understand it.

Suddenly we heard a vociferous cry of a child. Due to echoes we couldn’t actually find the direction of sound. So we both clefted . On my way I observed a poster of a wanted criminal who fleed from the jail. Suddenly I saw a cave and I found the child. He told me that the fugitive had imprisoned him. Soon we went near the bicycle but the thick fog had made us unable to find it. Suddenly I observed the flash of torch and went near it. The child holded me tight with his velvet hands. As we were moving I heard a beap of horn and huge flashes of light coming towards us. Robin shouted at us move away but it was too late. Suddenly he clashed with us to save us but after that I don’t know what happened.

When I woke up I realized that we three were lying in a place which was as beautiful as the firmaments . I observed that a horde of people, dressed like gods, were appreciating Robin’s gallance and true friendship. Sooner I realized that we were in heavens ,the firmaments. Then I reviewed over the prophecy and realized that I have caused three deaths and have leaded us all to a infinite world of heavens. I felt mentakky languished and couldn’t forgive myself . And now I have realized what true friendship means.


Like this:

Read more English Short Story by shubhankar gaikwad in category Friends with tag competition | friend | heaven | prophecy

Growing up, Laetitia Rutherford and her best friend Emily were inseparable. Shortly before Emily’s 19th birthday, tragedy struck. Here Laetitia explains why their special bond will never be forgotten

By Laetitia Rutherford

Published: 00:01 GMT, 22 September 2013 | Updated: 00:01 GMT, 22 September 2013

True friendship never dies: One woman's moving account of teenage loss

Laetitia today by Emily's tree in the garden where she and Emily had danced at a friend's 18th birthday party

As a diplomat’s daughter, my mother travelled all over the world. She had never lived in London before marrying my father and had no long-term or childhood friends. She even went so far as to say ‘best friends don’t exist’ – and that ‘we should just have friends’.

I had a best friend, a friend I loved spending time with more than anyone else. We met aged 11 when we went to secondary school, and realised straight away that we had parts of our identities in common. Emily was half-Spanish and longed for the holidays when she’d go back to the sunshine and free way of life in Spain, where her father still lived. I’m half-French and also went away to see family in France in the holidays. Her father, like mine, was an unusual character with both a troubled and a brilliant side and – also like mine – was rather absent. Despite these connections, Emily and I were very different. She was loud, confident, fun-loving, superficial in a way, a bit lazy and reckless. I was the quiet one, the ‘deep’ one, the clever one. But we were both very naughty, especially when we got together.

Laetitia with Emily (right) at the party

We were inseparable as we grew into our teens, from playing card games on the floor betting with Tooty Frooties, to smoking at the back of the bus, to meeting unsuitable boys at seedy clubs in Victoria and Shoreditch. But it was hard growing older and realising that our differences were present and real. She wasn’t interested in books, whereas I was obsessed with them and didn’t mind talking to the geeks at school as well as the cool gang. I thought some of her new friends were stupid, and she thought some of my ideas and my occasional seriousness boring and weird. She was the natural optimist and she filled my life, and my way of looking at the world, with a kind of exuberance and laughter I’d never experienced before. We argued sometimes passionately about which gang we were in. But we always stuck together despite the politics of teenage friendships.

We used to talk about our future lives way into the night, and the memories of those half-lit chats still give me a burning sense of how powerful and giving true friendship is. Its sense of promise is so great, as is that special feeling of hope found in mutual trust. This is particularly the case in those teenage years, when life seems to roll out endlessly in front of you and you can’t imagine being separated from the ones you love.

Laetitia with her son Theo

Emily and I were in floods of tears when we said goodbye to go to different universities. She was off to Bristol, while I had a place at Oxford. I’d fulfilled an implicit message from my parents that to go anywhere else would be unacceptable. I started a relationship with a man seven years older than me, who lived in Brighton and had a flashy lifestyle working among techie entrepreneurs. He adored me, but I think he loved the vision of dreaming spires I represented almost as much, and was more than ready to live out his student days again through me. He’d turn up most nights, losing the tie in his car, then walking into the quad, bottle of champagne in one hand and mobile phone in the other (none of us had mobiles then). I loved him too, but he wanted to monopolise me and I found it suffocating. I didn’t want romance to eclipse friendship. I missed Emily.

One Saturday night, I was on the phone arguing with him. I was telling him, ‘Don’t come and see me. I need some space.’ We rowed for ages, going round in circles, with no room for compromise. It was one of the few nights I was without him and free to party with my housemates, but they had all gone out and it was getting later and later. I really wanted to call Emily, to wish each other good things before we went out on our separate Saturday nights, to patter on about our outfits and who she was in love with now, like we used to at home in London. Our times together were the most carefree I’d ever had. Now, my evening was turning into a disaster. I wanted nothing more than to be arm in arm with my buddy Emily. I couldn’t call her, I resolved, as then the whole night would be shot. But it didn’t matter, because it was her birthday the following week. I’d speak to her then and we’d have a proper catch-up.

Laetitia with Emily, Christmas 1992

The next morning I was woken by a banging on the front door. It was one of our mutual schoolfriends, Elisa, also a half-Spanish girl and the source of my suppressed jealousy in her claim to something so important in common with Emily. Her face was blotchy and swollen from crying. She told me the news and crumpled on my shoulder. ‘Emily’s dead. She died in a car crash last night.’

That Saturday night, Emily had been travelling through Bristol in a car with a friend on her way to a party. They weren’t wearing seatbelts. It wasn’t enforced in the way it is now; you could take them or leave them, as we assumed we could with most things then. The driver started to pick up speed and swerved on the road. It was difficult to talk about the details with our friends afterwards, and with her mother and sisters. I can’t remember now how much of it was reported and to what extent I’ve invented those final moments as they kept reconstructing themselves in my head. The driver was drunk, and I could hear and feel the dangerous thrill of Saturday night approaching; Emily laughing, then screaming.

Some of what followed is a blank, the key moments obliterating the more normal ones from my memories, and from my concerns at the time. Summer term exams? What to wear, what to eat? My boyfriend? Things didn’t make sense any more.

A year or two later, at the memorial service at our old school church, I stood and said a poem I’d made up about Emily. Afterwards a group of us drove to our friend Cassie’s house and the garden Emily and I had danced in on Cassie’s 18th. We planted a tree for Emily. She had always been as bright and open as the sun to me, and we hung a carving of a sun around the spindly tree trunk of the young silver birch. She loved silver. We wrapped ribbons around the tree before sitting around it together, laughing and crying at once.

My boyfriend accused me of indulging in grief for her. He hadn’t witnessed our relationship and refused to believe how close we were. So I also felt confused and somehow guilty about the strength of my reaction to losing Emily. Eventually, and with great heartache, my relationship with him fell apart. It was too hard trying to love somebody properly while grieving for someone else. In the chattering bubble of university, followed by work, it was a conversation I didn’t have.

As she had always said I would ‘when we grow up’, I went to work in the world of books. At 23, I was sitting at my desk at a publishing house when I got the shock phone call summoning me to my father’s bedside in hospital. He had something growing in his intestines. He was operated on but failed to recover, and died three days later, aged 60. I felt too grown up all of a sudden, yet hardly grown up at all. I wished Emily could have been there to help me. She alone knew me and my family well enough to help me handle it.

I don’t know why it was, but this spring the plan came up to see Emily’s tree again. None of us had visited since we planted it; it was enough to know that somewhere a tree was growing where our friend used to be. But the occasion came in May, on what would have been her 36th birthday – almost half a lifetime from the 19th birthday she just missed. The timing was one of those circular coincidences. We didn’t need to make a show of ceremony.

We had five small children between us, my son the youngest at almost two, and an unbelievable amount of kit in order to walk to the tree on a rain-soaked day. Several cups of tea around Cassie’s kitchen table – looking at the rain and laughing at the kids running around oblivious – kept us busy, until the call of fresh air could not be ignored.

In macs and wellies we trudged through wet woodland, laden with May’s first massive blooms of hydrangeas and pink laurel. ‘It’s this one, isn’t it?’, ‘No, it’s this one,’ we said, between the shouts of children hiding in bushes and my toddler calling out ‘muddy puddle!’ in delight. Then it was in front of us in a small clearing, huge and shimmering with raindrops. Almost but not quite hidden among its silver-red leaves was the sun carving our teenage selves had marked it with. Seventeen years on, her tree is much bigger than us, minding its own business, growing, standing still and changing.

It look me a long time to be able to accept other people as freely and wholeheartedly as I threw myself into my friendship with Emily, and that first stormy romance. My mother was right, though – we have lots of friends, all of them special. And I’ve found out too, from my husband, that romance and friendship can live together after all.

The comments below have not been moderated.

The views expressed in the contents above are those of our users and do not necessarily reflect the views of MailOnline.

We are no longer accepting comments on this article.

Share or comment on this article

Categories: 1

0 Replies to “True Friendship Never Dies Essay”

Leave a comment

L'indirizzo email non verrà pubblicato. I campi obbligatori sono contrassegnati *