I was nine years old when I first learned about Jekyll and Hyde and I didn’t understand it. How could two people be one person? I didn’t believe it. After all, to me, there were only the good guys and the bad guys. 

… 

Becky was one of those good guys. For as long as I can remember, she was always there. We were in cheerleading together and we would always have sleepovers at her house. Walking through the entrance hall, photos of her and her family lined the walls, creating a welcoming  environment, one clearly well loved. Her wide and spacious living room with the beige colored walls always smelt like home to me. In that living room, she would always help me with my cartwheels. As she demonstrated, her legs, clad with black leggings whizzed through the air like a crow taking flight, creating a near-perfect arch. When I would try, my legs would look like a baby lamb trying to take its first steps, flailing all around me and coming crashing down. As I collapsed onto the floor, we would start laughing together about how silly I looked. She would help me off the floor as she suggested we did something else.

…

I created my very own YouTube channel! I had 15 subscribers. It was the typical channel of a child, the name being Star101 and the content being your classic ten year old shenanigans; room tours and sloppy roblox videos. Becky and I were the stars of that channel. We would vlog what you could do at sleepovers, how to make wands out of chopsticks, or a corny Minecraft video. We knew no one watched these short videos children would make, but that didn’t matter to us. The sound of our laughter constantly rang in our ears, making us laugh harder, wheezing and rolling on whatever floor we were on. We would set up my old phone with the yellow phone case and get started, saying things that could only make us laugh, constantly throwing around stupid and well thought out inside jokes, all while getting whipped cream thrown in our faces. I knew then that our friendship would last forever.

…

We loved to do musicals together, especially the ones at my church. Every summer we would jump into my mom’s silver minivan, listening to the CD and singing along to the cheesy but ear-catching music. We would pull up and as she would drop us off, we would run inside, excited to put on our fun costumes and sing into the amplified microphones. The best part however, wasn’t performing the musical itself but making up our own parodies in my bedroom about Rupert Grint. It was so much fun! We would sit at my desk, coming up with new lyrics and scenes for us to act out. We would poke through my overly messy closet and pick out outfits and costumes that we thought would fit each of the dump characters we created. I always chose my old Hogwarts robe and she would always wear a fake mustache and put on an old red tie. We would set up our phones and perform our crafty musicals for no one but our own enjoyment. We would laugh until we nearly peed our pants. 

…

We always played city on her driveway because it was always our favorite. She would bring out the huge bucket of chalk and grab our favorite colors. She chose yellow and I liked lime green. As we made out houses and drew the street lines, I looked at her house, one that I have known forever. Her main window was always so dirty and full of cobwebs. She kept saying her dad would clean it but never had time. I hoped he would soon though; I really hate spiders. Her mom loved to plant pink hydrangea flowers in the front of their house and I thought they were really pretty. They smelled like spring and Easter mornings searching for eggs in my backyard. When I would sit there, drawing my house, the wind would sing by me, whispering a secret message, and the birds would tweet their own tune, responding to the wind. I couldn’t help but feel like the wind was warning me.

… 

It was a Friday night when it happened. Becky and I had a fight. I can’t even remember what it was but I knew that my eyes stung as tears flowed out of my eyes and onto my reddened cheeks. I was in the hallway outside of her bedroom, sitting on her cream carpet, picking at a red stain, trying to take my mind off of the fight that just happened. What had happened to make things this way, why was my best friend so mad at me she kicked me out of her room? I heard someone coming up the stairs so I quickly wiped my tears pretending that nothing had happened. Her mom walked up the stairs, as if sensing something was off. Her eyes scanned the landing and her light hazel eyes spotted me in the corner. 

“Honey, are you okay?” she sped over to me, crouching down, getting face to face with me. As I opened my mouth to answer, a brown door slowly opened, revealing my current enemy. 

“Mom, why would you check on her first? I’m your daughter and besides, she started it!” She shot her finger into her face, all her emotions clashing with mine. I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as my mind started reeling. Why is my best friend so mad at me? Did I really do something wrong? Am I the bad guy? 

…

I walked into school, going to sit in the corner I always did, waiting for Becky to arrive, to sit next to me, to prepare ourselves for the long and dramatic day of seventh grade ahead. As I looked up from my cracked phone, I saw her walk into the large room. I waved to her, but she didn’t seem to notice. Weird, we always sit in the same spot. I saw her grin as she looked my way. Oh good! She found me! My mind was running laps to catch her up on all that had happened this weekend. Just as my mind was about to finish the race, she sat down, but not by me. She sat by someone else. Maybe she needs homework or something and she’ll come over after, after all, I hadn’t seen her for so long! But it never happened. I felt an odd sensation behind my eyes, it kind of hurt. I didn’t talk to her that morning, but it’s okay, good guys need more friends. 

… 

The day was here, the yearly trip to Bouncetown. I had waited for this day for the entire year. Becky promised she would come pick me up and we could go together! I was so excited, it was like I was already jumping inside the large, plastic houses. I could practically smell the scent of all the kids running around and the inflated vinyl. Looking at the yellow clock to the left of me, I realized there were only a few minutes left before she came! I texted her, asking if she was on her way, and as she responded, the bounce house that I was just in popped. She was already getting a ride from someone else. I stared at my phone, the clock, then out the window. My eyes stung again, harsh and fierce. She promised. She promised she would pick me up. I trudged towards the kitchen, going to ask my mom to drive me to the party. It’s okay though, good guys make mistakes. 

… 

Finally! The loud, obnoxious, but heavily awaited bell rang as I rushed out of class. The day is over! No more classes! I scurried over to my locker and flew down the stairs, I was so excited for this night. Becky and I are were planning to have a sleepover. As I danced out the door into the cold winter air, I noticed she was right in front of me! She was talking to someone else, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, she’s my best friend! As I began to sneak up behind her, I overheard what she was saying. 

“I can’t believe I have to hang out with her tonight, she is so annoying and clingy, can’t she just leave me alone?” She threw up her arms as if asking the muted sky a question. That’s weird, I thought, she’s hanging out with me tonight, so that means… I slowed. No. She wouldn’t. She’s my best friend. My heart fell to my feet. That now familiar burning behind my eyes was back, but this time, the stinging was much more severe. I looked down, my hands were shaking like a baby lamb standing up for the first, but I felt like I was falling, falling down a valley with no bottom. I couldn’t hear anything except for what she said, repeated, over and over, running laps around my mind. My vision became blurry, a drop of something hit my cheek. My wobbly hand came up and touched it. Oh. I knew what this drop was now. That’s weird though, the good guys never made people cry. 

… 

The next week, I sat by myself in the mornings. My mind wasn’t running laps with everything that happened the previous days, it stayed still because it had no one to run laps for. I would catch myself looking for a familiar girl to walk in, but stopped once I realized what I was doing. She already walked in anyway, sitting across the room from me, with that other girl, both of them laughing like hyenas. I looked down, focusing on the rain that hit the window behind me and hoping no drop would come from my eyes. It was then I began to think, weren’t hyenas the bad guys in “The Lion King”? Was Becky, no, that girl, really a bad guy? Everything stopped around me, the world hitting pause. All the pieces started clicking. The lying, the blame, and the abandonment, kept swirling in my head like a whirlpool in the ocean. As the world hit resume, the stinging in my eyes returned again, mourning the memories we made and the person she was. 

…

I now know that Jekyll and Hyde can exist in one person, there are no good or bad guys, Everyone is just a mix of them all, a sloppy shade of gray, and that girl was no exception. As I grew up, as the window full of cobwebs got cleaned, I finally realized the truth of who she was.