I met her in the 6th grade. Her name was Dianny, the new girl. She was always so quiet, never answered any questions in class and she sat alone at lunch. She kept to herself. It was around October when the school had its annual fall festival. There was a hay ride, food eating contests, dancing, pumpkin painting and so much more. I saw her there, sitting beside the pumpkins alone. I decided to finally talk to her that day. She told me her name and that she came from California. I asked her why she is so quiet and she explained to me that this is the fourth school she had moved to since she was 7. Her father was in the army so they moved quite often. She said that it became harder for her to make friends because she knew at some point she would have to leave them behind. We stayed together that whole night talking about so many different things. From that day on she wasn’t that quiet girl anymore. She became my best friend. We did everything together. Things worked in our favor, because her Dad wasn’t going to be moved again. After our sophomore year in high school, things changed. I moved away with my family. Things were hard at first, but nothing could break our bond. I now live two hours away. We are both juniors and college now and still are so close. We manage to see each other as often as we can and still talk 24/7. I’m so thankful for that day in the 6th grade. Nine years later, two hour distance and between our busy lives she’s still my best friend. I wouldn’t change that for anything in this world.
Story by Nydianna
Everyday was grey and white for her. She got up, got cleaned, got dressed, did her hair, and then came to school as if everything was normal, like there was so much color in her life. She never took the time to take in the yellowish color of the brick walls, the rustic and chipped brown of the old school desks, or the bright sunlight that would shine through the tainted windows in the morning. Then one day, she had seemingly met her best friend. She was the complete opposite, her bright white shirt and khaki pants spoke for her. She always had a smile on her face, her cheekbones defined with every word she spoke. She made life a little more interesting. A little more colorful. The one who could not see color started seeing the different whites, the greens and yellows on bulletin boards, the chipped colored wood, the dark brown of her best friends belt. She’d get up and her routine would be almost the same but now she’d put a little more effort in what she wore, in how she styled her hair and if she felt fancy she’d add a colorful hair clip. She’d walk to school with more skip in her step and if she passed a field with a lot of flowers she’d stop and admire those too. Her best friend would be there waiting for her and they’d walk to class together, completely disregarding the fact that they had homework due that day. She wasn’t much of a smiler but she thought she’d put on a little one for a picture that her best friend would cherish forever.
Story by Clara