“Who are you?”
That’s the sentence that broke her. The words ringing in her head day after day, minute after minute, second after second. It mocked her from every corner of her mind, clawing it’s way into the deepest crevices of her soul.
She never meant to leave Kelsey alone. Poor, sweet, gentle Kelsey. She was the pillar in her life. She stood by Genesis as she faced the adversity from the upper class. They would spit and laugh at Genesis, calling her a vacuous rat, but Kelsey was there to mend Genesis together again after they tore her apart.
But Kelsey doesn’t recognize her anymore.
How? She was still the same girl that grew up with her. The same girl that giggled over boys as children, that cheated off of each other in school, that dreamed big dreams of changing their city for the better. But Kelsey doesn’t recognize her.
Genesis shrugged, pulling her jacket over her shoulders and fastening the buttons together.
“No matter,” Genesis thought, “She’s just jealous of my success. She just wishes it was her that had my riches instead.”
But then a nagging voice would creep into her ear, “You abandoned your friend. You left her in the streets while you dined with politicians and celebrities. You are no different than the other upper class snobs that spat at you.”
Genesis shook her head, willing the nagging voice away with a frown.
It wasn’t true.
—————————————————————————
Genesis smiled, holding a glass of champagne as the gentleman in front of her prattles on about increasing school budgets and paving roads for the lower class areas.
As if she hasn’t done enough for them.
“Please, Mr… Jeffrey, isn’t it? I’m fascinated by your dedication towards, eh, them. How about I give you my card, and you schedule something with my assistant? Maybe then I could listen to your… ideas,” Genesis offered, waving her glass around in a lazy fashion.
“Really?” Jeffery asked, “You’re on board with my ideas?”
Genesis’ lips thinned and she brought her glass closer to her chest. The man in front of her was younger, not a single wrinkle on his face, and his eyes held a twinkle she knew would die within the year after working in this career.
“Hm, sure. I suppose so,” Genesis shrugged. She reached into her purse, pulling out a card with one of her assistant’s number. “We’ll get back to you.”
He took the card, holding it reverently as he laughed incredulously, “Tha-thank you! This mean so much towards the kids and families there!”
Genesis nodded, looking around as he thanked her to find a new conversationalist.
“Really, I mean it,” Jeffery smiled, tucking the card in his jacket pocket. “You really haven’t changed.”
Genesis froze, the ringing coming back as it whispered “Who are you?” again and again.
“What did you just say?” She asked.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offe-offend,” he said, taking a step back from her.
“What do you mean by ‘I haven’t changed’? Hm? Did Kelsey put you up to this?”
“Kelsey? Who’s-“
“She’s so jealous of my success, of my abilities and prowess, that she sends some kid with stupid ideas to come and taunt me? Is that it?” Genesis asked, taking a step closer to him.
He looked her up and down, taking two steps back, “‘Stupid’? You think my ideas are stupid? My ideas may not be original, but they are the least we could do for our own people! Don’t you remember tripping over potholes and trudging through mud after a storm to get to a school that was understaffed and struggling? My mom told me she knew you in school, but she also said she doesn’t recognize you. I didn’t understand, but if you think helping your own people is stupid, then I do understand now. You, yourself, have become the same coward as the upper classes have.”
The room quieted down during their outbursts, watching Genesis and Jeffrey with curious eyes and bated breaths. At the end of his speech, the room erupted into quiet whispers and soft giggling at the sight before them.
Her faced reddened, the blood rushing up burning her face.
Appearances be damned, she stormed out of the room and into the streets. The cool breeze tickled her hot cheeks, but it didn’t cool the blaze of embarrassment that washed over her.
She hasn’t acted like that since she looked like Jeffery. Young and naive.
She wandered the streets, her hands behind her back as she pondered on what to do now. She needs to find a way to save her image after her outburst.
As she pondered and walked aimlessly, she heard a familiar clack on the ground getting closer from behind her.
_Clack, step. Clack, step. Clack, step. _
She turned, and lo and behold, it was Kelsey.
She held her cane close to her body, the device bending from the weight she’s putting on it. Her footsteps were heavy with every step closer to her, and her face was splotchy with sweat as she gasped for breath.
“Kelsey? Is that you?” Genesis asked her, reaching out for her friend.
Kelsey recoiled from her, her eyebrows furrowed, “Hm, yes. It’s me. But I don’t recognize you, Genesis.”
“You recognize me well enough if you call me by name. Are you okay? Why are you using that old cane? You’re putting too much weight on it, it’ll snap.” Genesis said, grabbing Kelsey’s arm to lead her to a nearby bench, which happened to be past an open iron gate with fences surrounding the grassy field.
Kelsey tugged her arm away, a scowl etching her face, “It’s all I can afford. Wheelchairs are too expensive back home. The doctors are using their limited budget to buy medicines for sicknesses instead, so I make do.”
The heavy clacks on the stone pavement turned softer after reaching the grass.
Genesis’ stomach turned, “You could’ve just told me. I could have taken you to one of my doctors, I would’ve payed for it!”
“And use the money that could have been spent to help our people but instead was used to party and further your own wealth? No. I’d rather stand in solidarity with our class than abandon them with parties and fancy things,” Kelsey spat, her face twisting with pain with every step she took.
When they reached the bench, Kelsey landed on it with her side, clutching her bad leg as it spasmed and righted herself.
“Don’t be stubborn, Kels. You’re in pain, and I can help.”
“If you wanted to help, you would’ve done so,” Kelsey said.
“You didn’t tell me-“
“No,” Kelsey interrupted, “You could’ve helped our doctors by donating money, tools, medicines, but you spent that money on revelries. You could’ve spend the money on our schools so our kids would have better education, but you spent it on horse races and other opportunities to gamble and play with your money. You could’ve helped build and repair our homes so we wouldn’t freeze in winter or get wet during the storms, but you used the money to go trapsing in cruises and foreign lands.”
“But I could’ve helped you,” Genesis emphasized, ignoring her friend’s words.
“I don’t want help from the upper class,” Kelsey said, her voice low. “You lot are so high up on your own pedestals that you can’t even see the rest of us struggling and dying. Because looking down means you are faced with the reality of your own wrongdoings. So instead you look up to the stars and imagine every dot is a coin coming to rain down on you. You ignore our cries and instead focus on the clinking of riches hitting the ground around you as we are fed the scraps.”
“That isn’t true,” Genesis insisted.
“Then look down from your pedestal.”
“I don’t want to. I like it up here.”
“Then the Genesis I knew died in those streets like the rest of us.”
Genesis turned away from her friend as shame crept up. She realized, finally, that the bench they sat at was inside a graveyard. Stone slabs littered the ground, names etched in them.
“Im sorry,” Genesis whispered.
“It’s too late,” Kelsey said.
Genesis turned to her friend, but she was gone. No clacking or heavy footsteps could be heard to announce her presence. So she stood up, straightened her clothes and began to leave.
But not before she stopped in front of one particular grave with a cane that rested against the stone that read “Kelsey Ovretune, 2052-2077. May the stars welcome you high above.”
