My Best Friend Essay Grade 1
Katja Gains
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So here are some of the moments in my life that I was betrayed by my childhood best friend and what I learned from those betrayals. For you to understand the lessons you first have to know the story behind the lessons. That story is below.
During those few weeks, my best female friend at the time was playing hooky from school. When my friend finally came back to school the assignment was due in and the teacher we had knew we were close friends and the teacher told Angie my best friend to borrow my notes, knowing that I paid a lot of attention in class and had lots of notes that she would be able to quickly turn in to an assignment.
Angie borrowed my notes that day and came to me the day after telling me that she could not turn them in to an assignment for herself because they were in full sentences and she asked for my help to put the assignment together. I agreed to this not knowing that she really wanted me to write her assignment for her.
A week latter the results had come out and I had gotten a B+ and she got an A which was impossible for her to get as she had missed so much for that class and only had my notes to get an understanding from.
When I queried Angie about the assignment and not letting on that I had spoken to the teacher and seen what she had handed in she said I studied what you had written for me gotten an understanding of it and rewrote it in my own words and handed it in for marking as you had asked me to do.
What she had done by taking credit for what I had written and then lying about it really hurt me. I had never felt so hurt and betrayed by someone so close to me in my teenage life as I did in that moment.
It was that moment that everything has changed for me. I became less trusting of others and more sceptical. I started questioning myself, who I was and all the people around me. I eventually forgave her and became friends with her again.
A couple of years latter she went and told some of my deepest secrets I had told her in confidence to a couple of girls who used to bully me in the hopes that she could become their friends. She also told them I was talking about then to other people as she had overheard it. Which I never did, and they threatened to beat me up. When I stood up for myself, they went and beat her and another girl that we were friends with up instead. They beat them up really badly. I felt as though this was my fault for a few months and then one day it clicked to me that if I had not of stood up for myself and told the truth then they would have beaten me to a pulp and that what had happened was not my fault but her doing as she had lied to those girls about me and the realised it when I built up enough courage to stand up for myself and tell the truth. Those girls teased and taunted me until I changed schools.
Therefore, if you hurt me once it is shame on me, hurt me twice shame on you but hurt me thrice and I just walk away. I was not however the same way with my family but that is another story for another day. I did a lot of sole searching after that and could not trust or let people get close to me without putting a wall up to protect myself for a few years after that. I did however heal from this experience and move on with my life.
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Akira became my world that year. I'd read each new issue immediately, then skim through again just to analyze each panel. Any interest I had in making new friends was replaced with my constant need to draw. I spent my time sketching motorcycles, cityscapes, guns and explosions. I remember practicing constantly, attempting to perfect human anatomy, perspective, contrast and layout, all through the lens of a post-apocalyptic future full of orphaned teenage gangs on motorcycles with psychic powers.
It's hard to fathom the skill level and technical precision that Katsuhiro Otomo is capable of, and the sheer amount of work he singlehandedly put into Akira seems impossible (over 2,000 pages created from 1982 to 1990). Needless to say, I never reached that level of mastery as an illustrator, but I can't deny the influence that Katsuhiro Otomo and Akira have had on my own work and life since that day almost 30 years ago.
First, there's the ambition. I remember thinking that if this one person could write and draw thousands of pages of the same story over eight years, then anything was possible. I haven't even mentioned the feature-length animated film yet. Hailed as a masterpiece by many, it consisted of 150,000 drawings at 24 frames per second, and Otomo provided the storyboards and layouts for all 783 scenes himself. Akira took away any fear I might have had that I couldn't achieve something if I just put in the effort.
While the elements and layouts of each re-release are slightly different, they all follow guidelines with typography, hierarchy and composition. Each book varied only through a unique spot color and an issue-relevant cover illustration. There's nothing more satisfying than lining up my collection to view the repetitive consistency. For better or worse, I have a compulsion for this kind of consistency in my work. It can be the smallest thing, but if there's no repetition, visual categorization or tie-together, I'll stress about it until there is.
So I made it out of 7th grade alive. I even made it out of college, and later my friends and I started a creative studio and we're still going strong 11 years in. Some days I imagine I narrowly avoided the stereotype of becoming a high-school dropout skateboarding delinquent, living in a basement apartment surrounded by stacks of comics. Then I remember that's an antiquated mainstream stereotype, and in actuality, it was skateboarding and comics, specifically Akira, that motivated and inspired me to try harder.
Ever since primary people had always bullied me because I was from another country. I had no friends and everyone isolated me. I cried and cried but I could not find the courage to tell my parents. The teachers ignored me and did not do anything to support me. Soon it got worse and I was blamed for the things I never did. The teachers did not believe me because my bullies acted differently in front of the teachers than they did with me. Several years later I found the courage to tell my parents where they took action and the police was involved in this too. The bullying had stopped but new people started to bully me too. They made fun of my name called me names made fun of my personality and the way I spoke people also laughed at me and pointed at me. I was always picked last on sport teams despite being good at sports. I would even get isolated and people would ignore me.
People called me retarded but when I told the teachers they got attention from other people and somehow even though I was the victim it was put against me. Rumors were spread about me and nobody was there to support me except my parents. Eventually everything ended as I moved schools in another town to a school where I had actually became popular and had lots of friends. But everything ended once again as everyone moved their separate paths in Secondary school.
I had started in a class which I liked and where I had two friends. But then I was moved to another class for whatever reason I cannot remember. I had made friends with two girls but they eventually found a better friend and started ignoring me and isolating me even spreading rumors about me and laughing at me. I accidentally came upon a friend when I was picked for a school team. She sat beside me and we had a good conversation. From then on as time began to pass we became best friends and would do everything together there was even a time where I had forgotten all of my pain and misery and I was actually starting to enjoy life.
I had done my best to look alright through the time she ignored me and hurt me. Day and day again she would ignore me and walk off with my haters. My haters would brag about all the good times they had and how they were becoming best friends. One day I heard two boys calling out my name. They told me that my friend had called me bad names. I was very convinced therefore I confronted her and told her I did not want to be her friend anymore..I even told her I would tell the whole school of her secret but honestly deep within I was never planning to do that. I just felt so hurt being ditched by a person who meant so much to me. My hater pretended to be the hero and told me to never do this to any of her friends or else. My hater told on me and so did my friend.
Similarly, she saw a poor old woman on the streets one day and she only had money for her lunch. My best friend did not hesitate once before giving all of it to the poor lady. That incident made me respect her even more and inspired me to help the underprivileged more often.
In short, the bond I share with my best friend is one of my most prized possessions. Both of us inspire each other to become better humans. We push each other to do our best and we are always there in need. A best friend is indeed a precious gem and I am fortunate to have found that gem of my life.
A.1 It is important for everyone to have a best friend as they are our well-wishers with whom one can share everything. In other words, it gets tough to share things with your parents or siblings, but with a best friend, we never hesitate. Additionally, they always support us and boost our confidence.
A.2 A best friend should be understanding. One must be able to share anything with them without the fear of being judged. They should be supportive and encouraging of one another. Subsequently, one must always look out for their best friends in times of need.
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