two-little-girls-hugging

She started questioning everything and everyone.  Things she once thought were given truths are now unknown.  Her life was hazy, she didn’t have anyone to turn to and it was one of the most difficult phases in her life.  

She sighed.
She recalled her childhood: things at school were as dramatic as they would be for all students throughout the generations.  Issues and fights over toys and clothes and best friends and so forth.  Best friends.  She went through all grades in her mind and one face kept popping up.  A familiar face from her childhood.  A face she once knew so well they pinkie swore they would never lose touch.

But they did.  A really long time ago.

They never had a falling out, just a drifting apart.  Things like this happen.  Junior high is over and all of a sudden you’re not even talking to your best friend.  You start hanging out in different circles and even though you live a block away, you just never meet up, never bump into each other, and never speak.  As if the sleep-overs never were and the secret signals weren’t a part of your childhood.

She smiled.

I’m sure she remembers our code names.

It took her a few months to gather the courage to contact her childhood friend.  She thought it would have been awkward to just give her a call.  Plus, she doesn’t have her number.  She remembered the kind of friendship they had and the great times they shared.  It’s a good thing they’re friends on Facebook.

She sent a message, “Shortskin, this is Waldo, are you there?”

Time stopped and she was transferred back to the 80’s.

A few minutes passed.  She panicked, I’m sure she’s busy with her life.  What am I doing?  What am I expecting from her?  Beep.

“Shortskin here, what’s up Waldo?”

“Papa’s dead.”

“…I’m coming over”

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