Hi, my name is Elia Luga. You’ve probably never heard of me, because I’m quite sure Lea almost never speaks about me to you. It’s okay though, I’m not annoyed about that. I’ve actually told her not to do so. I strongly believe that if people wanted to know things about me I’d be the one to tell them. You see, I’m really great friends with Lea. I remember how we met. It was June, she was sitting down at the beach with four other girls, laughing and talking. My grandpa and I happened to be walking by them. Him and I spent a lot of time together, going on walks and all that. I’m pretty sure at one point he must’ve gotten sick of me, because I remember him saying,“Now Elia, go play with these girls. It’s about time you make some friends.”

So I did, and oh dear, was it awkward. For me and the other girls at least, but not for her. SHe started smiling, letting her crooked teeth show. Her laugh was so obnoxious yet so comforting. Her jokes were so excessive, yet surprisingly funny. All these signs she was giving me made me feel okay for a moment. I started talking with other girls. Soon enough, our friendship was slowly blooming, and our conversations migrated from one topic to another. I enjoyed their company, so I met with them the next day. And the day after that. And the weeks after that. This continued for the rest of the summer. We all met up, played foolish games with each other and ignored our surroundings. We were four years old at the time.

Let’s skip four years, shall we? At the age of eight, nothing really changed, honestly. If anything, our friendship just grew. Every morning we grabbed our crappy bikes and cycled around the compound (Lalez). We made wet paper towels and threw them at strangers on the streets, we put firecrackers in water bottles and impatiently waited for them to pop while closing our ears, and we stole Lea’s brother’s skateboard and just rode it around, even though we had no idea how to skate. We’d create our own shows and concerts for our parents to attend, and even baked our first cake! It was definitely not pleasant to eat, mainly because Lea put the wrong type of flour in. Oh yeah, almost forgot the intense hide-n-seek games we would play each night with the other kids in the neighborhood. Every night, at exactly 8 PM, we would start the game. Fifteen to twenty kids would participate. We’d arrive home at 10 PM with bruised knees and cuts, mainly because the bushes were always really sharp, especially since we all would run into them in a hurry to hide. Sounds like an amazing childhood, right? Yeah, it was. That was only half of the stupid stuff we’d do. I’d return back to school in September and brag about all that occurred during the summer. The jealous faces of my classmates made me feel so satisfied. I mean, have you ever snuck in a local pool at midnight while there are guards around? Didn’t think so.

With all these “adventures”, the average teenager might have thought that we would never return to planet earth. Instead, we’d be too busy living in our minds, where trees grow wings and homework doesn’t exist. Eventually, we did go back to earth, by pivoting down so fast that our skin and entire body caught fire. It was painful, is what I mean. By that time, I was 14 and Lea was 15. My mental health had without a doubt gotten worse, while her happiness bloomed right in front of my face. SHe made a joke, the whole crowd laughed hysterically, while she turned her head around in search of my reaction. Every time. It almost seemed as if she only made jokes so that I could smile. I’d go home every night and remind myself how drained I really was. How broken I felt. My old funny and social self completely vanished, leaving behind myself, which at the time, I thought was a piece of garbage. Fights with my parents were getting too frequent, and the cuts on my arms were multiplying. I could tell she was worried, she often cried about me. At least that’s what others were telling me, not that I believed it. Every morning for three whole months she would knock on my door and demand I’d go to the beach with her, or go for a coffee. I said no every morning for two months, but things changed.

I noticed and observed her very oftenly. I noticed how easily she talked to others, how outgoing she was in my eyes. At least, that’s what I told her, not that she believed it. She grabbed my arm violently and checked it everyday, hoping that my scars would disappear. You know, how you check your empty fridge every two hours in hope for food to magically appear? It had gotten so frequent that I just let her. I thought it was kind of pathetic how she cried every time she’d see me in this state, but I’d soon realise that it was a sign she cared. We spent more time together, and I got better. Mentally and physically. I wanted to change and evolve from the state I was currently in, so I took Lea and my other friends as an example. I started talking more to people I didn’t know, made more friends, cracked more crappy jokes and all that. I started going to the beach every morning and I started to go out more with friends. There used to be a wall between me and the people surrounding me, and because I couldn’t break the wall, I build a window on it instead. They can’t touch me or fully connect with me, but at least they’ll be able to be there for me.