when I was eight.
I used to cry all night.
I was all alone.
Then I met her.
She was four.

A year passed.
we were still young and naive.
she was five, I was nine.
we're neighbors we're best friends.
Inseparable, beautiful and bright.

----

The Day I turned Ten.
she grabbed my hand and we ran.
To a beautiful garden.
Took our seats, facing each other.
I tried to lie. saying I was fine.
But blood kept flowing from my purple head.
Thanks to the bullies and to thier rock throwing skillset.

---

" you have beautiful green eyes "
said my childhood friend while tying the bandages around my head with heavy breathes.

" do you have any idea what green-eyed means "
I said to her while looking at her worried blue eyes. she ran back home to find these bandages just for me.

" your eyes ! are green ! " She says confidently. she is done with her treatment. the bleeding has stopped.

" It's an idiom. meaning jealous, envious, distrustful. like a poisonous snake. " I said while looking at her long silky hair. she still wears the silly hairclip I gave her.

" I- I don't understand.. " she says with confusion yet sad expressions
her eyes facing the tiny white wrapped box.
her hands figgeting on the 'hapy birt dya' wordings on it.

me and the bullies learnt the idiom just yesterday at extra classes.
how can a five-year-old will know them.

" and your hair is pretty too.. " she says with hesitation but genuine.

" I am sorry. I did not mean to be rude... " I utter awkwardly

" thank you so much. it's just that those bullies made fun of my eyes & hair so.. "
I trailed off. what I should I tell a child? that they make fun of me cuz thy are jealous that I beat them in quiz competition?

" HERE ! " She screams. she...