It took me exactly five years until I was able to walk by her house without feeling scared. Five years till I could repeat her name three times without clenching my fist together. It took me five years till I was able to encounter her, look at her, and finally forgive her.
I believe in forgiveness. I’m not talking about the forgiveness where you forgive someone for cutting you in line at lunch but, forgiving someone who has left an impact on your life. I was six years old at the time when I met her. She walked into the classroom and that was the moment when my life changed. We were inseparable, she was my best friend.
Everyday for years we would walk home together, dress up, and make potions. But, there was always something that was not right about our relationship. She would always make me do things I would not want to and hurt me if I didn’t. When I came home one day my parents noticed scratches on my arms and bruises on my leg. At that point it became clear. I had spent almost three years being abused by my best friend.
I remember like it was yesterday when my heart started to pound and I had the courage to finally say no to an order she gave me. After I said no she stuck her nail into my hand and as my hand began to bleed I sat there knowing this was not right. That night I went home and soon switched schools.
I spent years of my life wishing bad things on her. I would avoid her and never pass her house. Every time she tried to talk to me while walking I would ignore her and hope she would go away. I wanted her to one day know how I felt and hoped she would one day be in my place.
As I sat home last year doing homework I started to hear screams coming from her house. All I could think was maybe her life was hard and maybe after these five years I should try and forgive. So, I finally came to realize that it was time. I had spent so much time blaming and never once tried to understand that maybe her life was hard to.
Suddenly my wishes of evil upon her turned into prayers to help her and pray for her family in hopes she was okay. As much as I was still hurt I felt better and found out in the end I had come to forgive her for what she had done. It was if all that hate had gone away and I know longer had to spend time hating her.
Even though it took me five years I did it and even sometimes when lying in bed I come upon that scar she left on my hand. But, instead of then wishing she could feel bad and hurt like me I now look past it and thank her for helping me become a stronger person.
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