“Whatever lies you tell I can see what’s true.” I remember that phrase being told to me as I remember my name or how to tie my shoes. I’d always known that some day my Mother and Father would find me out. My parents weren’t as clueless as I believed, it took time for me to realized that. My Mother is a lawyer and my Father is a police officer, both equally away from the place we call home. I was always alone which made getting away with things easy eventually I saw that they’d always knew, just never took action. My Mother thought “This is a phase, she’ll grow out of it” and my Father believed her. Soon I began to resent my parents, barely with accurate reasoning. I just believed that it was the kind of thing that teenagers did. That’s part of how I ended up here, our stories are never as linear as we believe.
Ever since I was a child I’d always had this feeling. I could hear things that weren’t being said and sometimes see things that weren’t there. I told my parents and they sent me away, perfect response right? They wonder why I’ve been so secretive since I got back. It’s only half of it, truth is living in that hospital was hard. It was strange I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t really here, sometimes I felt like I was vacationing here and that one day I would wake up and it would just be over. I was never the “dealing with feelings” type as Bay called it, so I struggled with this feeling for quite some time. Bay, a girl I met while I was there, helped me understand that I wasn’t alone and she helped me deal with that feeling. It was after she left I realized that I don’t feel like that anymore.
Anyways Bay left before me, two months before me to be exact. I thought I’d always hate her for it, but then on nights when I felt alone I would remember the stories she’d tell me to help me fall asleep. I realize I could never hate Bay, I had way too many valuable memories of her to even think of doing so. I was so shaken up when I got here I thought the world was against me, she seemed to be the only one who was on my side. I should of spent our short time together thanking her. Bay was the closest to a friend I’d ever known, I never really had many so sometimes I’d call her my sister. Being an only child had it’s cons, being the only troubled child was the deal breaker.
As I pack my things I run my hand across a misplaced button, the sharp end stinging me but not drawing blood. I flip it over running my thumb over the aging design. A wolf, I hadn’t thought about those in a while. When Bay left everything left with her, she made it too painful to talk about her. She always loved wolves, they were all she talked about. Wolves were her small distraction from the chaos within her.
“Did you know wolves are first born with blue eyes and then upon aging they turn yellow.” My head shakes “No.” while taking it in.
“Also they aren’t very good guard animals because they get anxiety from things that are unfamiliar so they’d hide before attacking the intruder.”
“No, Why do you know so much about wolves.” I ask
“When I came here for the first time, my counselor and I decided to find me a thing.” She pauses reading my confusion.
“Sorry, I’m new at being sick.”
“You’re not new at being sick, you’re new at getting help.” Another pause. “Anyways, she took me to this candy shop in Anchorage and I found this.” She pulls out a bright yellow button, with an image of a light grey wolf on it.
“A thing is just something to get you outside of your head, sometimes we’re so wrapped up in things up there that we don’t realize that we’re here too. So my thing is wolves.” I stared at her, taking it all in.
Sometimes when I couldn’t speak I’d stare and Bay never minded. She always told me “Whatever to get you through it” and I always believed her, even when I couldn’t find my ‘thing’, she made sure I knew it would come.  I had no reason not to believe it, just like I always believed she was fine. I never second guessed her because she would never second guess me, it’s what friends do.
BANG! A loud thud beside me.
My phone is the culprit, usually we weren’t allowed phones in treatment because a lot of issues stem from our technology, but Jessie had decided that because of the occasion it was okay. Jessie wasn’t like other counselors, in fact he wasn’t even a counselor. Jessie was in the same program and us only years ago. When he ‘graduated’ he decided to stick around and teach us somethings. Most of us felt more comfortable around him because instead of a degree he had experience which made it easier for us to trust him. Jessie knew what it was like here after hours, he knew the bonds we formed and he knew, I mean really knew, how to help us. We prefer him to the ‘degrees’.
Jessie and I hadn’t talked about Bay really. He believed that some topics weren’t reserved for him. Also that he was in no position to assist me with her, but after that day it was all he ever wanted to talk about. All anyone ever wanted to talk about. 
I was just glad that the for the whole flight here he hadn’t said a word about her. I like to think it’s because he just wanted it to be us when we met again. I admired him for that, most times Jessie knew when to stop pushing. He knew when to push us to talk about things and when to just be quiet. A lot of our sessions were filled with comfortable silence, most days I just wanted to be with someone, he understood that. People like me get tired of being alone it only adds to the problems, Bay taught me that.
When we arrived to our destination in Anchorage it seemed as if the whole world was silent, waiting for me to speak. Waiting for me to call out to her, but it’s as if I’ve forgotten my native tongue. I shed no tears for the girl laying on the casket before me. I didn’t know that girl, I never saw that side of her. Bay cared so much about me that she led herself deep into the darkness while trying to pull me out. She couldn’t help me out the rabbit hole without falling in herself. Altruistic wasn’t a good look for her. Blithe seemed to suit her more. I was captivated by the old soul laying before me.
I’ve always been someone of focus, which is why I stare so much. Only this time I didn’t see the girl I knew. I saw a girl a week shy of her 18th Birthday, three years shy of her first drink, seven years shy of marriage and maybe eight of her own little ‘Bay’. At Least that’s how life is supposed to go right? Not for us, I only see the emptiness she shielded me from. The pain many saw, but couldn’t understand. I could though, she was my friend. My friend.
“Gone but never forgotten” The last words I hear before she is lowered into the ground. People rejoice and bond over the precious moment they’d spent with her. I rejoice of the beautiful friendship we’d crafted out of lost hopes and failed dreams. Bay and I came into each other lives at a time that wasn’t so great, but regardless it is at this moment I realize; Bay was my thing.
She always was and always will be, truly gone but never forgotten.
With Bay came honest friendship, I sometimes believe that maybe I saw the pain in her eyes, but refused to believe it. Maybe I saw the warnings but didn’t let it stop me. I was just doing what she told me, “Whatever to get me through” and maybe this justification is apart of grief, I’ve never really dealt with grief. Even in the end Bay gave me something to think about.
“You know when I first met Bay, she called me stupid and told me to go away.” An unfamiliar voice speaks from the crowd.
“Oh wow” I can barely speak. Somehow my voice felt so quiet when she wasn’t around.
“I’m Stephen, Bay’s stepbrother” He holds his hand out, in an attempt to not be rude I shake his hand.
“I’m-” before I finish he cuts me off.
“Katherine.” He pauses. “I’m not a creepy stalker, she just talked about you a lot.” He finishes.
“She never mentioned you” I say. His smile drops in sorrow.
“Yeah, when she left to go to the hospital we weren’t on the best terms. I forgive her though, she was my sister. I will always forgive her.”
“Do you think she knew that.” I ask.
“Yeah, deep down she knew. I just don’t think she would let herself believe it.”
“I thought she was perfect.”
“And in some ways she was, but every perfect person has their issues. Bay didn’t give herself enough time to work through them.”
“I just wish she’d talked to me about it.” I say, but I know all to well that I’m too late to this conversation.
“Think about it this way, would you have told someone?” Before I know it Stephen is on his way back in the crowd.
He left me with a realization, I have no right to be angry at Bay, she did exactly as I would do. There’s recognition in tragedy. Although sometimes we don’t always understand it, it pushes us to reevaluation. Even though Bay was my “thing”, I was never meant to follow her path. I was meant to look to her for inspiration in times of pain, but not to harber my opinion. I was supposed to find my own path with help from Bay, I’m supposed to let her go, but not forget the memories she gave me.
Maybe it’s time I did what I was meant to, it’s never too late for change. It’ll take some time but I’ll get there, we all will.