Die

Delilah wasn't the most popular girl in school, she knew that. She was nerdy and had few friends other than her best friend Jane. Jane was mildly popular and always invited her to go to her sleep-overs and to parties with other girls of the class. Delilah didn't mind the other girls didn't talk to her, she was happy having Jane because she knew she could always count on her friend. The stares and the laughs didn't matter because she had Jane.

They grew up and became teenagers and Delilah kept being the half-ostracized girl she had always been, nerdy and awkward, with thick glasses and no interest in fashion. Jane, on the other hand, blossomed, all the boys were crazy for her, all the girls wanted to be her, and Delilah became a nuisance.

One particular day, Delilah was pestering Jane asking her about a date her friend had been on. Jane had already explained everything she wanted to say to her friend, but Delilah kept asking for more.

"What did you feel? Do you love him?" Delilah kept asking.

"I don't know, Lil! Just stop asking!"

"But, Jane, I want to know."

"For Christ's sake! ENOUGH!" Jane shouted startling her friend. "I'm tired of you, I can't stand you anymore. I hate you and if I'm your friend it's because my mother asked me to. I don't want to see you anymore!"

Delilah stood still, frozen in place, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

"What do you want me to do?" she muttered.

"Kill yourself. Die. I don't care."

Silence

"I've never liked people who spoke too much. And I've always been quiet, as a kid, my teachers would tell my parents that I needed to ask more in class. But the truth is that I like silence. I don't feel the need to fill the void with words. Silence is good. And, yet, some people don't understand it, some people will talk about anything just in order to fend off silence. I hate those people."

I looked at her, she pretended to be calm, but I could tell by the way she stirred her cup of tea that she was not.

"Tell me more about Jon." I asked her.

"He was a friend of a friend of mine. She had the crazy idea that we would get along, that we had so much in common. The truth is that the only thing we had in common is that we were both single. But I only found that out after I had already agreed to go on a date with him. It was a disaster, as you can imagine. He only talked about himself, non-stop. Making stupid jokes and expecting me to laugh along. He never once asked me for my opinion and thought he knew everything. I maybe said five words in total. He was obnoxious. I just wanted the whole thing to be over so I never had to see him again. Somehow, that was not his plan, as he asked me for a second date as we were leaving. "Ask" is probably not the right word, he demanded it, rather, not accepting a negative as an answer."

She stops and takes a sip of her cup. Talking about him has clearly agitated her.

"I see that you strongly disliked him, but did you really need to rip his tongue off and kill him afterwards?"

She smiles at my question as if amused by the memory.

"It was the only way to make him shut up. And I think of it as a public service, one less jerk polluting the silence."