I really had it going. I had so many good friend, more than I could count, and I had Jessie. Jessie was my best friend. She was so fun, would always have a big smile on, and can make you smile no matter what mood you were in. We were inseparable, or so I thought.
One day Dad comes home from work like everyday. Then he spoke the words no kid wants to hear. “were moving.” Just like that my life changed.

I had lived in that small town for as long as I could remember. When I told my friend I cried, they cried, we all shed some tears. Except for Jessie, it may seem odd, but I had never seen my best friend cry.

Jessie and I spent every waking moment we could together before I had to leave. The few remaining days I had left went by so fast. Then that dreaded day came.

I don’t think that I have ever cried as much as I did that day. Jessie gave me a key chain in the shape of a slipper, that said best. She held one in her hand that read, friend. I was so happy that I wanted to give her a hug and cry. I did both.

As Mom was rushing me into the car so we wouldn’t miss our flight, I gave my final good byes. By then I was crying so hard that my vision was blurred. When I reached over to give my best friend that last hug, I saw it. It hurt. I saw the tears start to trickle down her face. The first time I had ever seen Jessie cry I felt like it was my fault.

It has been over a year since I moved. Jessie is still my best friend, and I miss her so much. I have realized that moving wasn’t the end of the world, and that everything will be okay.