Elise was a chunky white kid, her red eyes seemed to be looking everywhere yet nowhere. Her voice was horsey. And she itched a lot. Atleast that's what others saw, noone ever looked at her for more than five seconds.
If I weren't the narrator, then I wouldn't know why Elise decided, on that particular day to go to Zerene and ask the one simple question nobody asked anymore.
Zerene was weird to say the least. She laughed a lot, and didn't talk much. She had pretty little sharp eyes that in the years to come would be moulded to delight any body who would gaze at them. But right now, Zerene was awkward, dazed, and reserved.
Students sat around a cake that was presented right after the assembly ended. It was apparently Hansel's birthday. The teachers were clapping, the classmates were clapping and Elise was slowly pushing her way toward where sat Zerene. Which wasn't very hard you see, Zerene had lots and lots of vacant seats next to her.
"Zereeeneee?"
The two girls now sat, one looking at the other as though she didn't know of her existence at all, and Elise, with her red, unfazed eyes looking at Zerene, yet somehow looking everywhere.
"Will you be my friend?"
If I weren't the narrator I wouldn't know that when Zerene answered yes to that question, she really meant no. But yes she answered, and Elise laughed her breathy laughter.
There weren't many things in elementary school that delighted Elise, but this had and as she grinned with her small baby teeth all wide, her red eyes finally looking like they were focused on just one thing and her white, white face glowing with a tint of radiant giddiness, Zerene didn't mind very much that this girl was now her friend.
Now I don't know what the future holds for them, but I do know there were two young souls who had turned best friends forever ever ever.
«_________»
I wrote this once for a prompt that went something like 'recreate a past childhood memory, doing something that you regret not doing at that time.'
Elise is described as 'her white, white skin with red eyes.' Elise is actually an albino.
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h a i m i s h
Poetry. . . haimish; moon talks, and alleyed pyols. . . . homes a collection of snippets from the times I feel most at home. prose/poetry
