My Best Friend

July 13, 2011
By , London, United Kingdom
The day- slightly grey, the warm rays of the sun only showing its lazy face for brief moments-was dragging. A flurry, a flurry of rush then laze, so much to be done, but how to accomplish all this? The little girl stood on a chair in the kitchen, the chair white small and close to the ground, her hair pulled into a pony tail that lay heavy on her back. Oh! that chestnut hair, heavy yet flowing, had a glow and was so telling of who this little girl was. Her hair was almost encompassed her: powerful, bold. Taking control, she held a mallet in her hand and crushed oreos into small pieces for the decadent cupcakes she was helping to make. Bang, bang they crushed- so quickly gone, disintegrating into small crumbs.

There was a scream, a scream of an older sister, her head it whipped around. In confusion, she left the crumbs to find her sister - the sister who she loved so dearly and who made her laugh, cry, and smile. The girl, and her pink dress with ruffles ran up stairs with graceful elegance, hopping up one step then the next almost like a gazelle. Her older sister was alone on the couch, tears streaming down her face in complete utter frustration. The little girl sat in front of her sister, taking her face, which was hot with tears, into her hands. The blue eyes, like an ocean of thought, fantasy, and joy, looked at her sister, she asked why she cried. She listened, calm, speaking only when the time was right, comforting her sister in a way that seemed too maternal for a six year old. She gave her sister a squeeze, right around her neck their skin making contact, heat like a warm summer's day. The little girl then left and away she went, back down to the kitchen with the same elegance; the girl was truly whimsical. She came back, though,-with purpose and true thought behind her every move- this time bearing comfort in the form of the cupcake batter that was made, but forbidden to taste. She held her tiny little finger out to her sister, telling her to taste it, but to tell no one, not even mom. The older sister laughed, smiling and taking the batter. The little girl then wrapped her small arms around her sister's neck once more and whispered, "you're my best friend, don't cry."

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