Hi, everybody! I would like to tell you a story, no more
and no less, about how different human fate can be. It will not be a funny story because I will
tell you how I betrayed my best friend. But this is only one point of view, because
I see it all from a completely different angle. By the way, my name is Tonya, and I just turned
seventeen not very long ago. "It all started approximately ten, or maybe
eleven years ago, I don’t remember exactly. I was a little kid and lived with my parents
in a small, cozy house on the outskirts of a little town. And I only had one friend - Olive. She was one and half years older than me and
lived on a nearby plot of land. Her parents were pretty poor, so they did
not own a house. They just lived in an old trailer parked on
the land. But they were polite and nice people, so my
mother supported my friendship with Olive." At that time Olive and I were so inseparable
that we even had something like a ceremony in order to perpetuate our friendship. Now I understand that it was ridiculous and
foolish, but for us little girls, it was extremely important. An old oak tree was near our house, and Olive
suggested that we carve the words: “Olive and Tonya – friends forever!” on its bark. I remember that Olive had stolen her father’s
knife, I remember that it was a miracle that we did not cut ourselves while we were carving
the letters, and I even remember that my name was misspelled. I guess you probably have some good memories
about your childhood friends too, right? That’s why Olive and I were so terribly
upset when my father got a job in the capital city of the state we lived in and I realized
that our moving was inevitable. We both cried a lot, for us it seemed like
these stupid adults were separating us - us, who were practically sisters! In order to make things easier for me, my
parents registered an e-mail address for me and suggested we do the same for Olive so
that we could write to each other and stay in touch. Olive and I wrote to each other for a year
or so, but… less and less frequently, and then we stopped writing to each other at all
– I lost the password to my e-mail account and didn't create another – I went to school
and made new friends there. However, I did not lose contact with Olive
entirely – after three years her parents brought her to our city. Both Olive and I were extremely happy to see
each other. The abandoned correspondence was quickly forgotten,
and we spent the whole day together, with sincere pleasure, walking in the nearby park. There was only one misunderstanding that came
up between us – I could not stop talking about my school drama club where I enrolled
a little while ago and where I was already preparing for my first performance, but Olive
seemed completely uninterested in it. Then I asked her what she was doing at our
hometown school, and she replied that she was not doing anything in particular. But not because there were no electives at
my small country school, but rather because Olive was not into these silly things. The only topic that truly interested Olive
was boys. I noticed right away how Olive batted her
eyes at every boy that we met during our little promenade. And frankly speaking, I kind of found it disgusting
at my eleven years of age! At that time I thought that boys were the
most terrible creatures in the world. Yuck! Olive and I started to keep in touch again,
but the next time I met her was approximately a year ago. For almost five years we exchanged letters
and pictures, and at that time I didn’t yet notice how my friend had changed. You see, when I wrote to Olive about my dreams
to go to college, to study to become an actress, and to get a job in one of the Broadway theatres,
the response I got in the best case scenario was, “yeah, cool!” And that was it. Olive would change the subject right away
and share the details of her hectic private life with me. At first I tried to count the number of boyfriends
she had had, but soon I lost count. And when I asked my friend about her plans
for life, I received, at best, a huge letter full of dreams about a rich, handsome, and
cool husband. She was neither going to continue studying
after school nor try to gain any professional skills. But I could tolerate all this, before Olive
came to see me again. A year ago I broke up with my boyfriend, my
first love, and it was a very difficult period in my life. Olive came to support me, but she chose a
very… peculiar way to do so. She decided that I simply needed to clear
my head and took me to a dicey neighborhood, with a lot of bars and clubs. Olive had already turned eighteen by that
time, and she looked even older, so I had to protect my friend from the unnecessary
attention from grown up men. Some of them even tried to buy us alcohol
and did not believe that Olive and I were under age. Anyway, it took me a lot of effort to bring
my friend back home. And Olive got offended that I wouldn't let
her hang out with all these cool guys. Then I began to understand that Olive and
I had become totally different people. I tried to minimize our communication, seldom
picked up her calls, and didn't answer her letters, hoping that she would understand
and stop bothering me. But she did not. In one of the letters she sent me a picture
of an old oak, where we had sworn to be best friends, and I felt ashamed. I decided to give Olive one more chance. And listen to how it all turned out. On one quiet, calm night, my parents and I
were awakened by a violent knocking at our door. Somebody was ringing the bell and demanded
that we open the door. My father looked through the peephole and,
suddenly the look on his face changed, and he let this person in. It was Olive, but hardly recognizable. First of all, she was pregnant – apparently
in her second trimester. I opened my mouth wide when I saw her round
belly. Second, Olive looked bad – her hair was
a mess, she looked untidy, and there were bruises and scratches on her face and hands. She refused to explain what had happened,
only saying that she was pregnant but did not know who the father was, and asked if
she could stay with us for a few days. My parents could not say no to her, but I
was not happy about the whole idea. And time will prove that I was right. On the next night, a few unpleasant looking
men on motorcycles approached our house. They demanded that Olive come out, but she
flatly refused. My father tried to chase these people away,
but they became aggressive. So my mother and I had to call the police
before the situation got out of control. After that I decided that I had had enough. I asked my father to drive Olive to a shelter
for women with difficult life situations. He contemplated for a while, and then agreed. My mother helped Olive to pack her things,
and I simply went for a walk during this time – I did not want to say good bye to Olive
or explain how I felt. I blocked her on all my social networks and
in my life. That was the end of my friendship with Olive. Maybe you will disapprove of my decision,
or maybe you will think that what I did was right. Please, tell about it in the comments to my
video and share your thoughts about what you would have done if you were in my shoes?
