The Seasons Part II

May 25, 2010

I remember sitting on the back steps to our house, and watching the big mean men take down the pool where the little boy drowned all those years ago.
I remember watching her freckles move, as she talked to me that first day, and wishing I had her freckles. They were subtle but very distinct.
I remember I didn’t play with her that much because I was scared of her, and angry with her for replacing my best friend.

I remember my dad telling me that she had come over earlier in the week to see if I could make a snowman with her, but I was at my mom’s.

I remember holding onto my dad’s hand and trying to match his giant steps as we walked through the snow to her house. The snow was up to my knees again, and they were up to his shins. She answered the door wearing a bright red jacket and her hair in pigtails; her black snow pants were too short for her.

I remember playing with her in the snow for hours on end, throwing snowballs at each other, telling stories about our lives and gossiping about the friends we didn’t know. Dad had to come and get me when the sun started to go down at four, and I remember crying and pleading with him to let me stay because she did the same to her mom.

I remember waving goodnight at her out of my window as she waved goodnight at me from hers.

I remember hopping the chain link fence that still separated our yard from theirs, and getting caught. She rushed out and tried to help me, but it was too late. My pants had already been split down the middle. Dad wasn’t happy with me, I remember him scolding me for hopping the fence because it wasn’t appropriate for a young lady. I was eight years old.

I remember her mom having a baby, so we couldn’t play because we didn’t want to wake the new baby boy.

I remember dad letting me stay out until 9 at night playing with her and her baby brother. We would run around and he would sit there and watch us with an amazed look gleaming in his eyes. We thought we were the coolest things ever.

I remember her asking me why she never met my mom, and I remember telling her that my mommy lived half n hour away. She looked at me like I was crazy, and I told her I had to go back home because my step-mom was making tomato soup. I remember hopping the fence into our backyard and running up to my dad and hugging his legs.

I remember asking my dad why my family wasn’t like hers, and he told me that my mommy and him weren’t in love when they got married. I told him everyone has to be in love when they get married, and he just laughed and shook his head then walked away to play his guitar.

I remember the years going on, realizing why my family could never be like hers, and I remember wishing I had a daddy who loved me like hers did.

I remember walking over to her house to play, and her asking me if I could sleepover. I remember that sleepover was the most fun I had ever had. It was shortly after Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets came out and we decided to be wizards like them. I was stuck being Hermione because my hair was like hers; big, poofy and curly. And she was a random girl too cool for J.K Rowling to add into the story. I remember I had a little plastic Basilisk that had sour pixie stick powder in it, and we pretended it was real and petrified her not so little brother.

I remember we built a fort out of pillows and tables and created a secret handshake, which was the only way to enter the All Girls Club. Her brother tried to, but we told him he would get cooties if he came in, so he threw plastic swords at our beautiful fort.

I remember going over to her house and ringing the doorbell. No one answered. I remember going home and asking my dad where they were, and he told me they moved.

I remember her name was Aubrey and her brother’s name was Joey.

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