Sacrifices.

Write about a time when in wanting to make someone happy you were forced to make a sacrifice.

The sun’s rays were blinding me. I was clearing my messy room, probably as messy as Fred’s. I cleared my room because I felt that there was finally a need to do so. Mother was moving back home with my baby sister and I was excited about her stay. Clearing under the bed was difficult, it was probably the dirtiest part of the room. I flipped my bed over, and moved the wooden part of the bed, which was supporting the mattress and saw a book.

The cover of the book was rusty, with tattered edges at almost every page. It was obvious that it had not been touched for a very long time. I picked it up and dusted the cover, making the air polluted with brown patches of dust. It has a title: My memories… I sat down at my chair and thought about it… It was my primary school book, about my memories with friends. I flipped open the pages, and saw pages of me, with Fred together. Fred is my best friend… Well at least was. Fred was one of my best friends, now he is not. As I read through the pages, I thought about the story and it ended like this.

Fred and I were just playing at a local arcade which we rarely hang out at, but today was an exception, because the examinations were over. We were 11, primary 5 that time. We played from the afternoon until around the evening, which was when I got to go back home, which I did and left him alone. He said that he wanted to stay for a little longer. When I left, I looked back and saw him surrounded by bigger sized people, and I felt scared and so I fled. When I reached home, I was terrified, and did not say a thing to my parents. “What if… he was caught? Or bullied?” wild thoughts crossed my head and I shook my head wildly. I believed that nothing would happen to him, he’s a tough guy. The next day, when I saw him in school, he was rather happy and I felt that it was weird, and so I asked him: “So… What happened yesterday?” I could not remember what he said… But he replied something like: “I got a few new friends.” And I passed my lunch money to him. I did not remember or know why I passed my lunch money to him.

After finishing my thoughts of what happened, I flipped the book, to the next page, which contained of some pictures that struck my memory. I passed him my lunch money, because he said that he was dared by a group of new friends that “if he can successfully raise up to $100 dollars, they would give him a set of arcade game set.” We were too young to think maturely, we thought that society out there was so simple. I thought I could make him happy, and so I made a sacrifice. He seemed so delighted, and explained to me how special it was to own one of the sets and so, I handed him my savings: My $60 dollar savings. I wanted to save that for my game cartridge but I gave $40 dollars, which I thought was a small sum. He took it, and went off. All I could remember vaguely was: “Thank you so much! What I had received from you today, shall be returned! The game set shall be ours!” We were too naïve, or should I say, I was too naïve.

When I reached home after that incident, I called him up. He did not pick up my phone, and I called him multiple times. I felt worried, even more worried than for him than my money. The next few days, he was not present in school. He was nowhere to be found. I thought he was dead. I thought he would, be back with all the games and joy, which he would share… I was starting to regret… But I did not lose fate in him. I turned and look at the other page of the thick, old book and thought… 20 years back, Fred’s probably 32 by now, wonder how he’s doing. He said that he gave the $100 bucks to the few new friends that he met and they in return hit him on the head and fled. He was given a few days off school to recover and I felt guilty. I thought I could make him happy. I thought my sacrifice would be worth it. But it was not, it caused harm to him. Fred did not blame me, he never did. But I blamed myself for that. After a while, he migrated back to one of the western countries which he never did tell me even though we were close friends and I had never met him since. We lost contacts and everything, the only thing that was connecting us together was this book, which only I had.

Friendships are meant to be cherished, but sacrifices must be made when it should be made. Unnecessary sacrifices would not only cause loss to yourself but also to the person you sacrificed for.