The Burden of Guilt

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Claudia, Esther, and I were an amazing trio, and even though our numbers were few, our bond was extraordinary.

And there was Love, one of our coursemates, who'd cherished being around us. She was the littlest among us, and I had wholeheartedly embraced her as my little sister, filling a void that has always yearned to be filled.

We shared a common objective as friends to prioritize our studies, consistently inspire one another, and engage in regular study sessions together. Our approach proved successful during our first semester in year one, and we recognized the value of staying closely connected as our friendship began to shape our academic paths.

Second semester of year one, I noticed Love's academic effort was beginning to dwindle. She was seldom seen at school, and there was even a time she missed a test.

I became so worried, I felt something unusual may have happened, and perhaps she couldn't confide in anyone. So after the close of lectures for the day, I bummed into Stephanie, her "bunkie."

"Hey, Steph! Where is Love? I haven't seen her for like a while. Is she okay?" I asked.

"She's fine. She is in the hostel," she replied.

"But why isn't she coming to school?" I worriedly asked.

"I don't know. Perhaps you should call her," she abruptly responded and walked away.

If only she understood the sheer number of times I tried calling her, and how she consistently chose to ignore my calls. Claudia and Esther were worried too.

I stayed off campus, far away from the hostel. So the next day at school, I conveyed to Claudia and Esther the need for us to go see Love once all the lectures were concluded, and without hesitation, they agreed.

After lectures, we transported ourselves to the hostel. I had my plans, unbeknownst to my two friends. Walking into her room, we saw Love enthusiastically tapping and giggling at her phone. At that moment, I was dumbfounded, and I could tell the two girls were equally astounded.

"Love, so you're here? Do you have an idea that you've missed a test?" Esther broke the silence.

"Here we are worrying about you, and you're here pressing your phone. Besides, why haven't you been coming to school?" Claudia asked.

I should have been the next to speak angrily, but I acted so calmly and unperturbed. I quietly walked toward her, grabbed the phone from her hands, and inquired about the guy that'd taken away her focus from school.

"It's no one. Please give me back my phone," she replied blushing, effortlessly letting out a smile that meant something appealing was up.

At that moment, I swiftly searched for her dad's contact and dialed it.

"Who are you calling?" She asked with a mix of concern and fear.

"I'm calling Stephanie. I want her to help me get something from school," I answered.

When her dad finally picked up the call, I excused myself and made my way outside to inform him about his daughter's indifferent behavior toward her studies.

"Take the phone to her, I want to speak with her," he requested.

Walking back to the room, all eyes were fixed on me like they'd realized what I did. And in just a few seconds, her dad called back.

"Hello, Dad!"

I had no idea what her father communicated to her, but then I saw her eyes well up in tears, and within a split second, tears cascaded down her cheeks as she began to sob.

"What's making her cry now?" Esther asked.

"I reported to her dad," I replied, shivering as I watched her cry.

"Let's just go home first," Claudia suggested.

A heavy burden of guilt overwhelmed me, knowing that my actions had made her cry. I had gone too far, and I had just realized.

Why didn't I tell my friends about my plan? Perhaps they would have stopped me from proceeding with it. Why did I have to do what I did?

My heart pierced in regret, and my mind shattered into pieces. From the bottom of my heart, I didn't intend for things to turn out that way. I was naive, and I felt getting her father involved was only going to attract cautionary responses, I never intended to shatter her heart.

Next day at school was what I'd looked forward to, and again, I bumped into Steph, but this time, she looked at me scornfully as she walked past me. I understood she must have heard what I did.

"Hey, Steph? Do you know if Love would be coming to school today?"

"Don't ask me. Has your father ever been disappointed in you before? If he hasn't, find out how it feels. And again, thanks for sending her home."

My heart raced, my mouth dried up, I felt numbness all around me, and my chest pounded so hard. What have I done?

I hastened my steps towards Claudia, revealing the outcome of my actions.
"We will fix this," she assured.

A few minutes later, Love arrived in class. Catching a glimpse of her heightened my heartbeat. I needed to right my wrong, so I walked up to her. It was never easy convincing her to a secluded area where we could talk. I begged and begged, with tears almost escaping my eyes.

"There's absolutely nothing you would say to me. My father has asked me to pack my belongings and come home. No school for me anymore," she said. This time, she cried even more.

I drew her to my arms, and we both sobbed. "I will fix this, I promise you."

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"We will fix this," Claudia said as she approached us.
"Love, I need your Dad's number," she requested.

"There's nothing you'd tell my dad to change his mind, so don't bother trying."

"Just let me try."

I'd remained with Love, trying to stop her from leaving my sight, and hoping that the aftermath of the conversation between Claudia and her dad would illuminate our faces with beaming smiles.
"I'm deeply sorry, Love. I didn't mean to hurt you, please forgive me."

Those apologetic words kept flooding her ears as I just couldn't stop.

"Everything is alright now. Love, we are really sorry we messed up." Claudia uttered, as she held her hands and rested on her shoulder.

I felt overwhelmingly elated, my pounding chest eased, and all my fears were gone. Just how?
The next moment, Love's phone rang, it was her Dad. Oblivious to the conversation, I saw her glooming with smiles. I loved it, I cherished it.

I hugged her tightly again, and then I whispered. "I'm really sorry."

It's been five years now, and sometimes I wonder, how did I ever let that happen?

Sometimes the guilt we bear in our heart engulfs us in ways that we can't fathom, and until it's resolved, we tend not to feel better.

To @dianelson, at the moment I thought it was my guilt to bear, you stepped in reducing the weight of the burden in my heart. I have never forgotten, and I never will. I'm sure taking us to your dream Paris after this phase❤️❤️ THANK YOU.

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