My best friend and her precious boyfriend had a fight, and she bolted over to my place in the middle of the night. My instant reaction was to push her right back to him: "He's such a great guy, really. He'd rather punch a wall than lay a hand on you. That shows restraint, you know? Reliable." After all, in my past life, her precious boyfriend hacked me to death, and she turned around and begged my parents to forgive the murderer. They're such a perfect match. How could they possibly break up? 1. "But... but he smashed the computer and the TV! I just bought them!" Chloe's eyes were swollen like peaches from crying, endlessly complaining about her boyfriend, Kevin. I glanced at the clock on the wall. Yep, 3:30 AM. Fighting off sleep, I patiently tried to counsel her: "See? That just proves he's not materialistic. He doesn't care about possessions. Solid guy, totally reliable." Chloe's eyes widened. She stared at me, utterly bewildered, clearly shocked that I was suddenly defending Kevin. "...Didn't you used to hate him? Every time we fought, you got angrier than I did." I gently patted my bestie's head. "I've thought it through. Whatever makes you happy is what's best. You should go home now. Look how much he loves you—your phone's been blowing up nonstop since you got here." Of course, I wasn't going to get angry for her anymore. After all, last time, when they were splitting up, I took Chloe on a trip to clear her head. Kevin, in a rage, tracked us down from miles away. The guy screamed that I was the one poisoning their relationship and then stabbed me repeatedly right there on the street until I was dead. And what did Chloe do? She went to my parents, crying, talking about the bond they shared as husband and wife, offering to be their daughter from now on, if only they would forgive the man who killed me and spare him the death penalty. Seriously? Who could stomach that? It took days after I was reborn for the sheer rage to subside. I was so stressed out I broke out in these huge, painful zits all over my face from the constant anger simmering inside me. This time around, they weren't even married yet. I wasn't about to make the same mistake, getting all worked up and calling him scum every time they argued. Because the moment they made up, Chloe would repeat every single word I said right back to her precious Kevin. Do. Not. Get. Involved. In. Other. People's. Karma. I had to repeat that to myself thirty times before bed every night. 2. The 99+ missed calls from Kevin? In Chloe's eyes, that was just proof of his love. After my pep talk, her tears turned into a smile, and she practically skipped back home. On this exact day in my past life, Chloe had done the same thing—banging on my door around 2 AM, nearly giving me a heart attack. She'd wanted Kevin to go walk the dog with her, but he was deep into his nightly gaming session right after dinner and refused. Chloe complained a bit too much, and the guy slammed his keyboard down, smashed the monitor, found a nice, clean patch of drywall, and started banging his head against it. Hard. It scared Chloe, and frankly, it scared me too. Someone that emotionally unstable? If they got married, who knew what else he was capable of? But that conversation, where I tried to talk sense into her, was what made Kevin start hating me. The next day, they were lovey-dovey again, and I dragged myself to work with dark circles under my eyes. Then, I got the threatening text from Kevin: "You bitch, if I hear you're trying to break Chloe and me up again, you'll regret it." This time, however, while I still went to work exhausted with dark circles, I received a different kind of message from him: "I feel better knowing Chloe has a friend like you looking out for her. Next time she throws a tantrum and runs to you, just let me know right away, okay?" I glanced at it and deleted the message. My career was really taking off right now. If I landed this project successfully, I'd get transferred to the company headquarters. I didn't have time for this toxic couple's drama. HQ was in my hometown. After remembering how I was brutally murdered by that psycho, leaving my parents devastated and crying constantly, I had decided. I was moving back home to be with them, to really be there for them. 3. The next six months passed relatively smoothly, without any major disasters. During this time, Chloe still called me sporadically, at all hours, always to vent. The topic was inevitably her boyfriend, his family, or some random acquaintance of theirs. Unlike before, I no longer dropped everything to listen to her relationship woes. I’d offer a few vague platitudes, claim I was busy, and hang up. My project at work wrapped up successfully. But the night of the celebration dinner with my colleagues, I got home to find a woman holding two cats waiting for me at my door. She was sitting on the steps, surrounded by bags. I frowned slightly. "Mrs. Davis? What are you doing here?" This was Susan Davis, Chloe's mother. Chloe and I had known each other since middle school, and our families were acquainted back then, so I knew her parents. Her mom was known for being loud, eccentric, and difficult to deal with. I remembered back in high school, Chloe secretly went on a date with some guy from outside our school. Her mom grabbed me and demanded I take her to all the places Chloe might hang out to find her. Back then, I was such a pushover. Worried about Chloe but too intimidated to refuse her aggressive mother, I trudged around with her for half the night in the freezing cold – it must have been below twenty degrees Fahrenheit. I ended up sick with a fever for days and almost missed my final exams. As soon as Susan saw me, her face lit up. She slapped the dust off her pants and stood up. "Sarah, honey! You're finally home! I came to talk to you about something important." What was this about? This hadn't happened before. I kept my frown subtle and nodded politely. "What is it?" She didn't answer directly, just looked at me, then glanced at my apartment door. "It's getting chilly out here in the hallway tonight. Can we talk inside?" I looked at the two cats cradled in her arms. I knew her family always liked pets, but I honestly didn't expect her to travel all this way from out of town with two cats in tow. The cats stared at me with wide, round eyes. They were cute cats, but unfortunately, I have allergies. Bad ones. Cat fur sets off my allergic rhinitis like crazy. Still, it was cold out, and I couldn't bear leaving the cats in the hallway. After a moment of internal debate, mostly for the cats' sake, I nodded and unlocked my door. 4. Susan plopped herself right onto my sofa and immediately started complaining, her face etched with worry. "Sarah, dear, I came here hoping you could help me talk some sense into Chloe. Convince her not to marry Kevin." Hearing the name of that monster, the one who still gave me cold sweats, made my expression instantly harden. The agony of being stabbed to death on the street in my past life seemed to crawl back up my nerves. Was it my imagination, or did my muscles actually start to twitch and ache? I poured Susan a glass of water. "But from Chloe's social media, it looks like they're already setting a date. They seem really happy together. Maybe we shouldn't interfere?" Susan immediately got agitated. Her eyes flew wide open, and her voice shot up several decibels. "How can you say that? That boy's family has no money! His parents don't even have retirement savings, and he's got a deadbeat brother! What kind of life is Chloe going to have with him?" She had a point. Chloe's family had never really approved of Kevin. It seemed my encouragement had finally pushed Chloe to decide on marriage. I tried again, calmly. "Chloe says Kevin treats her really well. She's an adult now, and this is her choice. I don't think it's my place to interfere in her life." That did it. Susan shot up from the sofa, pointing a finger right at me. "Aren't you supposed to be her best friend? You're just going to stand by and watch her walk into a disaster? Sarah, how could you become so selfish? If Chloe ends up miserable in this marriage, won't you feel guilty?" She grew more agitated as she spoke, seemingly picturing her daughter's ruined life, all supposedly my fault. "If her marriage fails later, if she gets divorced, it'll be your responsibility, you know that! I was wondering why she was suddenly so determined to marry him! Was it you egging her on?" Guilty? My responsibility? Was this another attempt at emotional blackmail? I almost wanted to applaud her audacity. It was just like that time in high school, dragging me along to find Chloe while muttering that if we didn't find her, I, as her best friend, would regret it for the rest of my life. I stood up just as abruptly, looking down at her coldly. She was much shorter than me, and her aggressive posture seemed to deflate slightly under my gaze. I let out a cold laugh, staring directly into her eyes. "Mrs. Davis, I'm Chloe's friend, not her mother. Now, if she wanted to get on her knees, call me Mom, and ask for my parental advice, then sure, I'd jump right in and try to talk her out of it. But otherwise..." "You—You disrespectful little brat!" The old woman seemed genuinely furious now. She raised her hand and swung, slapping me hard across the face. My ear rang, and I instinctively cupped my stinging cheek. Damn. She hit hard. Growing up, my own parents had never laid a hand on me, let alone slapped me. Who the hell did she think she was? 5. I picked up the mug of still-warm tea from the table, lifted it high in front of Susan, and then, as she watched, I splashed the entire contents onto her face. The temperature wasn't hot enough to burn her, but it was definitely enough to be unpleasant. Her makeup instantly streaked. Black mascara ran down her cheeks in watery lines, and her foundation became a patchy mess of dark and light splotches. I couldn't help but let out a snicker. "Aaaah!" Susan shrieked dramatically, like a pig being slaughtered. "I'm calling the police! This is assault!" Her tightly permed short hair now looked like a soggy bird's nest, and even her down jacket was soaked. Without a word, I opened the door and pushed her out. "Go ahead. Call them. Let's see which is worse: you slapping me, or me splashing you with some lukewarm tea." It was already midnight. Most of the neighbors were asleep, and I really didn't want to argue with her anymore. But Susan struggled fiercely. Seeing she couldn't overpower me, she grabbed one of the cats beside her and threw it directly at me. Startled and caught off guard, the cat instinctively lashed out, sinking its claws deep into my arm twice. Along with the sound of fabric tearing, blood started to drip from the wounds. "...I didn't do that! The cat did it! It wasn't my fault; you must have provoked the kitty yourself." Susan didn't seem flustered at all. She picked up the cat, acting completely uninvolved. I looked at my torn sleeve, then at the bleeding scratches. I calmly closed my apartment's security door, pulled out my phone, and dialed 911. I looked back at her through the peephole, a small smile playing on my lips. "Well, isn't this great? You got your wish. Even if you wanted to leave now, you can't." 6. I had a security camera installed in my entryway. Everything that just happened was clearly recorded. After filing the police report and getting a medical assessment for my injuries, Susan was required to compensate me for all damages and medical expenses. I presented her with the bills for the rabies shots, the emergency room visit to treat the wounds, and the receipt for the ruined clothing. "The total comes to eighteen hundred dollars. You can transfer it to me." She looked at me in disbelief, snatched the receipts, her eyes wide. "Are you dreaming? What kind of crappy clothes cost eighteen hundred dollars? You're just trying to shake me down!" I scoffed. "My purchase records and receipts are all perfectly clear. We just left the police station not too long ago. Want to go back? Or perhaps, I could just ask your daughter for the money?" She ground her teeth, her face pale with fury. "Hah, you've got nerve. Just you wait. I'm going to tell Chloe your true colors, let her see what kind of little monster her so-called best friend really is!" I smiled sweetly. "Tsk, Mrs. Davis, isn't it true that you wouldn't be here, bags and all, if she hadn't blocked you? I'm just a supportive friend who believes in her freedom to choose her own partner. What did I do wrong? It was her mother who lost her temper and attacked me, remember?" I knew Chloe and her mom's relationship was a ticking time bomb; they blocked each other every other week. Usually, when that happened, one would ask me to relay messages to the other. It drove me nuts. Sure enough, hitting that sore spot made Susan flush with anger. She raised her hand again as if to strike me. "You—!" I quickly stepped back, pointedly holding up my phone displaying my Venmo QR code. "Scan this. Unless you want to risk having a heart attack from all this stress. That would end up costing you a lot more." 7. Susan might have been loud and aggressive, but she wasn't completely reckless when it came to the law. She was afraid I'd actually drag her back to the police station. Although she was furious, she transferred the money. My transfer orders hadn't come through yet, so I just took a week off work. Back home, having been awake for nearly twenty-four hours straight, I collapsed onto my bed and fell into a deep sleep. In my dream, I was like a floating camera, watching myself being chased by Kevin wielding a knife. Chloe stood behind him, crying, yet clapping her hands. "Yes! Yes! He still loves me! Even if he hurts other people, he wouldn't hurt me." The bone-deep pain and terror from that memory seemed to seep out of the dream and into my body. I jolted awake instantly. I gasped for air, trying to steady my racing heart, when I suddenly heard a noise coming from the living room. Every hair on my body stood on end. Adrenaline surged through me. Thinking quickly, I slid silently out of bed, grabbed the tennis racket hanging on the wall, and crept nervously towards the door, listening intently. Knock, knock-knock. My bedroom door was tapped gently. Then, a familiar voice called out. "Hey, cuz, you still sleeping? I brought breakfast. Get up and eat something?" I let out the breath I'd been holding tightly and opened the door. "Megan? What are you doing here? You didn't even call! You scared me; I thought someone broke in." Standing before me was my cousin, Megan, almost half a head taller than me, who was attending college in the city. She gave me a weary smile. "You've been asleep for almost twenty hours! Your neighbor messaged Aunt Carol yesterday, said the police came to your place late last night. Aunt Carol and Uncle Joe freaked out. They tried calling you, but you didn't answer, so they asked me to come check on you." I looked at my phone. It was dead. I must have been so exhausted I just crashed without even plugging it in, causing my parents to worry. 8. I scratched my head sheepishly. "You probably still have classes, right? Sorry to make you come all this way and worry everyone." "No big deal, I'm a senior, barely any classes left. Mostly focusing on finding an internship now." She smiled, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me towards the dining table. My eyes welled up looking at the steaming bagels and hot coffee. My stomach growled instantly. I sat down and started eating like I was starving. My cousin popped a piece of bagel into her mouth, then suddenly remembered something and swallowed quickly. "Oh yeah, that friend you used to hang out with, Chloe? Did you guys have a fight? Aunt Carol called her first, thinking maybe you two went out together. But Chloe was apparently super rude and snapped at her." I couldn't help but frown. I hadn't told my parents about all this drama because I didn't want them to worry and it was complicated to explain. Looks like I needed to fill them in, before they got dragged into this mess somehow. After all, Chloe and her mom both had my parents' contact info and knew where they lived. Just as I was about to explain things to Megan, someone started pounding heavily on my front door. "Sarah Miller! Open this door!" Well, speak of the devil. "Cuz, who is that?" Megan looked tense. I shook my head and got up to open the door. Whatever needed dealing with, it was better to get it over with sooner rather than later.
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