Friends, Always
Many things in this world are finite. True friendship is not one of those things.
The young boy sat quietly at recess, his stomach grumbling. The bullies took his meal again. He wanted to get it back, but they were so much bigger and so much stronger than he. The boy whined softly to himself, feeling very gloomy and hungry. When up around the corner, another boy came, happy as could be. "Have some of mine!" he said, bearing an apple for the boy. The boy took it with glee, quietly munching on the delicious red fruit. "Thank you, but aren't you hungry too?" The boy asked. "Yeah, but I'll be fine! You gotta eat too!" He explained, drinking milk. "But don't you want anything from me?" He asked again, confused. "Nah, I don't want anything!" The other boy took to enjoying pizza, of which half he gave to his hungry young acquaintance. "You're so nice," the boy said to complement his good company. "We're gonna be friends, forever and always!" He claimed, and the young boy laughed as they enjoyed lunch that day together. A friend. What a nice idea, he thought. He ate away at the apple, as his new friend smiled, happy for him.
The boy sat in the lunchroom, peering from some few tables away. A wonderful girl, so sweet and so polite. Looking at her, he would've even mistaken her for an angel. The boy swooned, as did his friend that sat alongside him. His friend looked to him, giving him a nudge. "You should go talk to her," he suggested. "But you like her too." The boy shuffled in his chair, unsure. His friend merely looked the boy in the eye, his smile genuine. "We're friends! Always have and always will be! You deserve to be happy." With those words, the boy drew confidence, standing from the table and walking over to sit next to the girl he had, up until that very moment, admired from afar for so long. "Umm, hi," he started off, shakily. "Hi." The girl seemed comfortable with him, smiling at him, a smile that would illuminate that entire room from how beautiful he saw her as. And his friend smiled, happy for him.
The young teen and his girlfriend watched in discomfort and woe, as the boy's friend was struck to the ground, then standing right back up. Bullies, vicious grins adorning their faces, would throw blow after blow, bringing great pain to the teen's friend who came to his defense. He wanted to help...they were so much bigger, so much stronger. His friend didn't care, though; he stood again, hands bawled, taking every strike with courage. When the bullies had finished, they walked away, leaving the injured friend to lick his wounds. "Go get the first aid," he asked his girlfriend, whom did such. "Look at you...you went through so much trouble for me, why?" His friend pulled himself from his grip, standing on his feet. "We're friends, always have and always will be. You know that I'd never let them hurt you." He summoned the will to smile, That same smile the boy always knew him for. At his worst, even as the first aid staff came to his aid, always that smile. The young teen took his girlfriend by the hand, the two walking with the staff. And his friend smiled, happy for him.
The young man clutched his rifle, leg absent. All around him, thousands of sounds erupted. Never did they cease, or slow, and neither did his friend. He stumbled into the ruined house, clothing red, breath quiet. Doom swept the young man's face. "No, please...you have to go, you're hurt.." Despite his plead, his friend pulled him over his shoulder, huffing. "So are you." "I'll just wear you down...please, you've done enough...live..." His friend simply held him up tight in his arms, and that smile returned once more. That same, warming smile as always. "We're friends; always have, and always will be. Without you, what would I live for?" He huffed and strained, carrying him, the young man unable to stave off sleep any longer... He awoke, in the back of a truck. In the distance, his friend. What felt like miles of sand began to pass by him. Safety. And miles more away, his friend smiled...happy for him.
Church bells rang to mark a solemn dirge. In his hand, the man held the picture of himself, his wife, and his friend. It felt like a lifetime ago, as did he. Sadness struck his heart. A lifetime ago, he'd do anything for him. A lifetime ago, he'd always give the man that cheeful smile, no matter what. His thoughts, interrupted, by his child entering the room with tears rolling down her cheeks. "Daddy, we got in a fight." "A fight? Sweetie, who was it?" He asked with great concern. The little girl sniffled. "I don't think she'll be my friend anymore." The man smiled softly, wheeling himself over to sit next to her. He looked at her in a way only a father could. "So it's her, huh?" "Yeah...I said so many mean things, daddy. What do I do?" While unsure what to say at first, it hit him...and he smiled more. "You and her are friends, always have and always will be. One little fight would never change that; if she's your friend, she'll forgive you." He could see in her eyes, and her face, that what he told her would be held to heart. She kissed him on the cheek, running off to her friend's house. "Thank you, daddy! Love you!" "I love you too, sweetie. Be careful!" She ran off in such glee, and the man smiled, happy for his daughter.
Days spent sore, tired, lonesome. But happy. So, so happy. The old man laid there in his chair, thinking of the years gone, all the memories and people that passed him by. And..to his friend, and what he meant to him. It was bittersweet, all in all, but it was a wonderful thing. To think, it all started from an apple. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought his vision deceived him; so keen, it was, to do such a cruelty to him in his age. However, what he saw was the genuine article: it was his friend, the same young face he remembered him by. And the same, cheerful smile. Slowly, he picked himself up from his chair, on his crutch, hoping to embrace his friend. It was only then where fate's cruel hand dealt, and he realized he stood only in spirit. The old man sighed, then spoke. "I have grown old and tired in your absence. Years would go by that I would regret never repaying you for your virtues. Yet..here you are. Why?" The spirit shook its head, that familiar smile creeping along slowly. "You spent your worries in guilt, but in reality, you already repaid me. You've lived a happy life, and made the lives of those around you better for it. We're friends; we always have, and always will be. And it's that friendship that isn't repaid through gifts and favors, but by sharing that kindness to others, in the hopes that they'll share that same kindness unto others in turn. Trinkets, places, life itself, they all must fade some day...however, the memories we make, the virtues we share, the friendships we forge, they are immortalized forever if we will them to become just that." The old man had finally realized what he missed, all those years ago; he chuckled, his breathing slow. "I have grown so weary and exhausted." "You should sleep now, dear friend," The spirit beckoned. "You did well." Heeding to just that, the old man hobbled back to his chair, yawning, and closed his eyes one last time. And he did so with a smile.
And his friend smiled...happy for him.