Where I End and She Begins

My heart was beating as though I had run a marathon. I could hardly catch my breath. My head was spinning as I looked down at her lifeless body, covered in a thick layer of blood.

But before I get carried away, let me tell you how I ended up breathless, covered in blood that wasn’t mine, and standing above the lifeless, blood-covered body of my former best friend.

10th of February, 2025 – 8:30 a.m.

“I can’t believe it’s our first day of high school!” Lola said with a little squeal in her voice.

Lola and I met on the first day of our second year of primary school. She was the first friend I made after moving to New Zealand from the UK. It felt like an instant connection, like we had known each other our entire lives. But of course, like every friendship, there were always arguments — never enough to break our immense bond.

“I know, we’re like, so adult now,” I said, though I felt a little fake.

Because the truth is, I have never been that keen on the first day back to school after the Christmas break. Everybody is always so excited to catch up and find out what everyone has been up to, which for me was never interesting. Like every holiday, weekend, and afternoon after school, I had to take care of my twin brothers, Leo and Samuel — or in Lola’s words, “the most annoying little worms of brothers in the world.”

One thing Lola and I could never agree on was family. I loved mine, even though spending every waking moment being more of a mum to the twins than a sister was difficult. But I guess that’s what happens when you lose your mum at such a young age.

I was four and a half when our mother passed away while giving birth to the twins. It almost broke Dad. Since then, Dad has been nonstop working, leaving me to watch over the twins. In my mind, that’s what family does for each other — stands by one another no matter what.

Lola, on the other hand, can’t stand to be around her family, especially her snotty-nosed little brother Logan — her words, not mine.

Anyway, back to the point at hand: the first day of high school.

“Eek! I am absolutely loving this new uniform. I look so mature. I bet all the senior boys will be looking at me with lust, and every girl in the school will be looking at me and wishing they could be me — or be friends with me!” Lola said while staring at herself in my cracked wall mirror.

“Yeah, sounds awesome,” I murmured, looking down at my already chipped green nail polish.

“Ugh, why do you always insist on getting ready here instead of my place?” Lola said, looking at me through the mirror.

“You know why,” I replied sternly.

She looked at me with that knowing expression and sighed. “I know you have to watch your brothers, but aren’t they old enough to take care of themselves? It’s not like you’re their mum,” Lola said, annoyance creeping into her voice.

I stood still, trying to think of a way to respond without losing it at her. She knows my mum passed away — she knows it’s still a touchy subject. She also knows why I look after the boys without hesitation. Even when the twins are a total pain, they never got to meet Mum. They never got to listen to her read bedtime stories or have her look after them when they were sick. So I’ve tried my hardest to do those things for them — to make sure they don’t miss out on the motherly love they deserve.

Lola sighed as loudly as she could while smoothing down her skirt. “It’ll do,” she said before walking into the hallway.

I followed, as I always do. Lola says jump, and I jump. She’s the only friend I have. No matter what she says, I follow.

The walk to school was quick — especially with Lola’s nonstop talking. Most of the time, I just block it out. It’s usually about the same things anyway: school, boys… and more boys.

As we turned the corner toward the school gates, my stomach tightened. The crowd was already forming — girls clinging to each other like they hadn’t seen one another in years, boys trying to look taller and cooler than they actually were. The building looked bigger than I remembered from orientation day, colder somehow. Lola grabbed my arm suddenly, her nails digging into my skin.

“Oh my God, look — that’s Jason Reed. He got so fit over summer,” she whispered, though it wasn’t even close to a whisper.

I barely glanced over. My focus shifted to the towering entrance doors, the way they stood wide open like they were waiting to swallow us whole. Something about today felt off. Maybe it was just nerves. Maybe it was the way the air felt heavier than it should have been. Or maybe it was the strange thought that wouldn’t leave my mind — that this was the last normal morning I would ever have.

Lola tugged me forward before I could think any more about it.

“Come on,” she said excitedly. “This is our year.”

I forced a smile and let her pull me through the gates.

If only I had known what this year would cost me.

A bell rang somewhere in the distance, sharp and metallic, snapping everyone into motion. The courtyard erupted into chaos as students surged toward their classrooms, laughter and voices overlapping until it became a dull roar. Lola walked ahead of me, weaving easily through the crowd without slowing, without hesitating, as if she already knew exactly where she was going. I kept close behind, clutching my timetable, trying to match her confidence step for step. A few people brushed past me, knocking my shoulder, but no one seemed to notice her sudden stops or the way she turned to make some dramatic comment. I told myself it was just first-day madness — everyone wrapped up in their own excitement. Still, an uneasy feeling settled in my stomach, like I was slightly out of sync with the rest of the world, always half a step behind.

Lola finally stopped beside the noticeboard, spinning around so abruptly I nearly walked straight into her.

“Okay, moment of truth,” she said, snatching my timetable from my hands before I could protest. Her eyes scanned the page quickly, and then a slow, triumphant grin spread across her face. “Oh, this is perfect. Like, actually perfect.”

“What?” I asked, trying to look over her shoulder.

She held my timetable up next to hers, aligning them with exaggerated care. “Look at this. English together. Maths together. Biology together. Even lunch is the same block. It’s basically like they knew we needed to be in every class together.”

I let out a small laugh. “Or maybe there are just a lot of students taking the same compulsory subjects.”

Lola rolled her eyes. “You always ruin things with logic. Just accept that the universe clearly wants us to stay a duo.”

I studied the pages again. She was right — every period matched, right down to the optional subjects. A strange coincidence. Most people we’d walked past were already comparing schedules, groaning about being separated from their friends.

“That’s… kind of lucky,” I admitted.

“Lucky?” Lola slung an arm over my shoulder. “No. Necessary. You’d be completely lost without me.”

I shrugged, pretending not to care, but there was a comfort in knowing I wouldn’t have to walk into unfamiliar classrooms alone. Lola always spoke first, always knew where to sit, what to say, how to belong. All I ever had to do was follow her lead.

“See?” she said, nudging me toward the stairwell. “Best year already. You’ve got me for every second of it.”

I nodded, folding the timetable carefully and slipping it into my bag.

At the time, it felt reassuring — like no matter how overwhelming high school became, I wouldn’t have to face it by myself.

I didn’t realise then how impossible that kind of alignment really was.