Misconceptions of First Impressions

Who are you? Can you ever really tell without the influence of what others say? In this story Anna dictates the troubles she encounters when she is changed by the manipulation of another girl, Ulna. Once confident, independent Anna was changed by Ulna's manipulation and mind games into a timid, unsure being on the brink of suicide. When somone knows all your weaknesses and targets them, how can you not collapse?
(Closley based on a true story)

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4. Best friends? Or Slavery contract in disguise?

After a month, or so, Ulna asked me if I wanted to be her best friend. I thought the whole enquiry was rather odd, from my little experience I knew one does not simply ask for such a bond. At the time I thought the whole idea was harmless, despite the fact I disagreed to it. I hoped to make a best friend over time, but not like this, not in a way so superficial. Nevertheless I agreed not wanting to offend my only acquaintance in this foreign country.

“Anna?” she beckoned in a sickly high voice.

“Yes?” I answered half heartedly. I didn’t feel like talking at the time. Anything involving Ulna required a lot of work; some could say due to the fact that she was very high maintenance

“I wanted to ask you something” she paused to let me say ‘yes’ or ‘what is it’ but I was not in the mood. I just sat there silently waiting for her to continue.

“I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be BFFs.”

“What’s that?” I chorused wanting to sound interested.

“Best friends forever.” As these words emerged from her mouth I found myself quite bemused. There we were two teenagers talking about declaring a label for each other like a marriage certificate, yet in this case it was in the form of an acronym. I said I would love nothing else but in my heart I knew I barely knew this girl. Only after discovering Ulna’s true colours almost a year later did I realise how naive I was. I accepted the responsibility of a best friend, which with Ulna is the same degree as accepting a marriage proposal from a passing stranger. Unknowingly I had agreed to share all my deepest secrets and do as she asked.

From the next day she changed completely. She asked me all to reveal all my personal information, at first I told her maybe a interesting story or two, but after one she requested another; if I hesitated or refused she would simply protest with “ But you have to, we’re best friends!”. I could hardly tell her the title meant nothing to me, and that I only agreed to it not to offend her, so reluctantly I did as she wished. With every tale and skeleton from my closet I felt all the power drift into her hands. I had foolishly become a slave on her ship.

 

 

 

 

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