This isnít a love storyÖ well it kind of is, isnít it?
I woke up today and remembered that I will never see one of my best friends again, and all the sorrow from these past two weeks came back and knocked me emotionally out.
On July 22nd I was in the living room and watching the news, a bomb had just gone off in Oslo, my mum called my brother to see if he was okay, thankfully he didnít have work that day. I had just calmed down when the shooting started, now my and many of my friendís hell began.
I had just talked to my friend, lets call her Hanna, on the phone; she was planning on going to bed when she hang up, now she didnít even take the phone. I called my other friend, lets call him Michael, he did not take the phone. I called some others, they did not take the phone and it was like ice was running though my veins, I felt sick, lost and cold. All I could do was sit and watch the tv until I was called to dinner, I did not eat.
Suddenly my phone called, I looked at the ID, ran to the bathroom, picked the phone and answered
ďHello? Are you there? Please, tell me you are alright.Ē
The voice that answered me made me cry
ďHello, Iím here, Iím alright. I got away in a boat, they took me to a houseÖ do you know anything about the others?Ē Hanna was alive, thank her lucky stars, she started crying too and we told each other how much our friendship meant for us and how much we cared for one another. Then we hung up and I was yet again a zombie.
I walked around in the house, I wanted to be alone but I did not want to be alone, I wanted my phone to call but what if it had only news of death? I stopped to look at the news and suddenly my phone called, it was an unknown number. I ran into the bathroom, closed the door and picked up the phone but did not dear to answer.
ďHello? Hello? Are you there?Ē
I fell on the bathroom floor, crying like I was wounded, thanking whatever power that had granted my two friends luck to get out
ďIím here Michael, Iím here honey, how are you? Are you hurt? What happened? Why is your phone off?Ē
at the sound of my voice he started to sob, and we sobbed for a while. He told me everything, how he was chased by the man down to the water, how he pretended to be dead in the water, how he had seen so many of his friends not make itÖ I told him Hanna and another girl was okay, that I loved him, that we would see each other soon and that we would get through this together.
That weekend I spent at a friends house, sleeping and eating in font of the tv, we cried, we laughed when it was all to much, we called around. We got to know that all our friends from the town we live in was alive and well, but our friend from the neighbour town, lets call him Will, was missing. We had hope, he was still alive, right? We called the hospitals every day, the police, everything. He was missing.
Then my parents dragged me with them to summer vacation.
I had been gone from my hometown for one day, I was walking the dogs with my cousin and suddenly my friend called me. We would never again talk, laugh, live or fight for youth rights side by side with Will again, he was gone forever. I collapsed crying.
Itís been two weeks since I got that message, and everyday I had to fight tears, anger and hurt.
But I wonít anymore
My tears of sorrow are now tears of happiness from memories I treasure.
My hate is now strength to fight for what I believe in and love for my neighbour.
My hurt is now something that will fade with time, it will make me grow as a human being and show me what hate can do.
As one of my political sisters said:
If one man can show so much hate,
Think about how much love we can show together