Kaleidoscope

i

I hadn't seen Boris for at least two days since the morning he sat, Popchik licking his pale nose, on the edge of my bed. He wasn't at school, the playground, and he never snuck into my house, or knocked even. It worried me.

Whenever I was at school, it was like a desperate endless hunt for the familiar and comforting sight of his greasy black curls, his milky pale skin, his nails, and his very dark wardrobe choice. I longed to see him tap his hand against the wooden desk of his in the classroom, or even to see hear him.

Now I just watched an old movie I could care less about, lazily dozing as I laid in the one patch of sunlight fighting it's way through my closed curtains, pouring down onto a small portion of my messy bed. Glancing over at my clock, it read 3:45 PM, and I couldn't blame myself honestly, it was boring. I was an only child, and I had even the slightest idea where my best friend was.

I could live without him for a week, was all that I told myself, that I wasn't clingy. But, still, he'd disappeared, just with a snap of fingers.