There was a squeak of the door slowly opening towards Flor’s dorm room. Once she was inside, she let the door slam itself shut. She held onto the bracelet around her left wrist so tightly, as if it was the only thing to alleviate her of loneliness. Her roommate, Jessie, who still stayed merrily down the common area with the other freshmen, had all of her things unpacked and sprawled all over the right side of the room. Flor’s side was much neater. She had all the time to unpack her things after her parents took her to her college dorm.
Flor flopped herself down her bed, her messy black hair becoming even messier. She kept the lights off in her room. It gave her some comfort to see the sparkles of her fairy lights pasted on her wall with a couple of her favorite polaroid pictures. She wondered how everyone could be so happy their first day of being away from their family and friends back home. Flor could not stop clutching on to her left wrist. The laughters of the freshmen who she would live with for the whole year seemed to mock her silently and her loneliness grew stronger and stronger the longer she stayed with them. She slid her arms in front of her and gazed at the purple and pink yarn bracelet her best friend gave her four years ago. It was tied together like a rope sliding diagonally with each color alternating. Little fuzz sprang in different parts of the bracelet but Flor didn’t mind. It’s what makes her bracelet so special. The first time she acquired the bracelet was during her freshman year of high school. Her best friend was being targeted by bullies and she happened to be there. She helped her by threatening to inform the teachers and principal and her friend was so happy that she started to cry.
“Thank you. I’ve been dealing with this for two years.” From then on, Flor’s best friend stuck to her like glue and her friend had made her a friendship bracelet to mark the start of their friendship.
Flor brushed the knot of the bracelet around her wrists as she sat herself up and leaned against the headboard of her bed. It used to have a button to secure it from the back but Flor cut it back in her sophomore year when she fought with her best friend over a guy she barely even remembered now. She was blinded with insecurity and self-esteem issues that cost her to lose her trust in her best friend.
“You knew I was dating him!” Flor screamed at her phone and stomped her foot on the tiled floor of her room.
“You told me you guys weren’t serious,” enraged, she almost threw her phone across the room. Her friend did not even say sorry for going after the guy she was dating. What kind of best friend is she?!
Flor slid down and laid flat on her bedsheets and she pulled her left hand out in front of her and stared at the worn-out bracelet, a bit tighter than the first time she remembered wearing it. A couple of months after she fought with her best friend, they talked with each other once again. They both admitted feeling inadequate and envious of one another. It was a humbling experience. Flor had never thought her friend would be envious of her smarts, of how she seemed to have everything together. They kept things from each other from the fear of being laughed at or being misunderstood. They kept bottling things up until something was triggered and they both lashed out at each other. Her friend was right. Flor just kept the guy she was seeing as a fling. She was just not able to stop the icky feeling in her throat when she saw her friend kiss him inside one of the empty classrooms. The bracelet became witness to the reconciliation of their friendship, admitting both of their wrongs and immaturity.
Throughout the years, the bracelet watched her grow, have her first kiss, as she went through puberty, as if it really was a connection, a second eye to her best friend keeping an eye on the things Flor does as she narrates them to her. After she made up with her friend, she had not taken it off since. It became a part of her. The laughter, the sadness, the farewells, and the hellos. Just like her, it was worn out with time facing struggles against the world. It gave her the strength to remain walking in the right path and the courage to stand for anyone who may need her help.
But now, all she can feel is the constriction of her chest and an occasional prickling of tears threatening to escape from her eyes.
Change was such a nasty thing. She was perfectly content living in her little town with her friends and family for the rest of her life. She took a glance at the polaroid photos on the wall. Times when she celebrated her eighteenth birthday with her friends and family, her first hiking with a group of her friends, a candid photo taken by her best friend of Flor playing with her dog. But now, everything was stripped away from her. She now lived in a building full of strangers with a roommate that could not be any more different than her. Flor moved to her side and the image of the purple and pink bracelet in front of her blurred.
“I want to go back home.” Flor bit her lip to prevent herself from making loud noises and she pressed her hand with her precious bracelet to her eyes. She was not ready to live by herself. She was not ready to live her daily life without her best friend, her friends nor her family around her.
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