My Best Friend; Our Special Place

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I typically see Rayna at camp, the place we all call home. The tradition and spirit of our eight short weeks fill us with joy and happiness. Rayna is short. Her long hair flows down her back and her dark brown eyes glow as bright as the moon and she always has the sweet scent of Juicy perfume. Her clothes are the most fashionable of anyone I know. She rarely wears the same outfit twice. Rayna’s laugh is boisterous and when she laughs everyone turns around to see who made that funny noise, but I am familiar with that sound and hearing it.

Rayna, sometimes called Ray, is my best friend. I remember the day at camp when she came over to me and said, “ Rachel you’re my best friend, I don’t know what I would do without you. I can trust you with anything. We are like sisters. ” As she said this a big smile spread across her face allowing me to see the metal that looked like train tracks attached to her teeth. She just looked at me waiting for me to respond with an apprehensive look. I responded, “You are my best friend too.” Our arms interlocked, we hugged, and I felt the sense of security, a feeling I never felt before.

Rayna and I have never fight about anything because we respect each others opinion. Even though we live miles and miles away from each other, we do not fret because we know we will see each other again soon. The eight weeks we spend together are the best eight weeks of the year. At the end of each summer we start counting down the days, until we meet again in the bunk that becomes the special place that we call home.





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