𝕺𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖚𝖓 𝖆 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊,
There was a girl from a loving family.
A boy from a broken background.
Everything went well until she was separated from her childhood best friend.
She struggled to come to terms with his sudden absence from her...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
She is 12 years old
"You're so good at this!" I said softly, breaking the silence.
I found Killian in his room, surrounded by sketches scattered across his desk. He looked lost in thought, pencil in hand as he focused on a drawing of a mythical dragon. I sat beside him quietly, watching his hands move with precision, bringing life to his imagination on paper.
He looked up, a faint smile touching his lips. "Thanks, Alex. It's just something I do to pass the time."
"But you're so talented," I insisted. "You could do something with this."
Killian shrugged, his expression conflicted. "Maybe. But I have to help out at home. Dad's been working even longer hours lately, and Mom..." He trailed off, his voice tinged with sadness.
I place a hand on his shoulders as I lean my back against the wall of his bedroom, placing my head on his shoulder.
He's such a sweet boy, but sometimes I worry about him. His family doesn't have much money, and I've seen his mom stumble around, smelling funny and acting strange. She drinks a lot, even during the day. Killian once told me she used to be different before something bad happened. I don't understand it all, but I know it makes him sad.
His dad, Mr. Donomie, works hard. He's always tired when I see him, but he's kind to me. I think he's proud of Killian, even though they don't have much. They live in a small apartment not far from mine, and sometimes I visit after school. Killian's room is neat, but there's not much in it—just a bed, a desk with some books, and a few toys we play with.
I reached out and squeezed his hand gently. "You don't have to do everything, Killian. Your parents wouldn't want you to give up your dreams because of them."
He nodded slowly, contemplating my words. "Yeah, Alex..."
There was something on his mind. I knew it. We're been best friends for three whole years - that's a long time to get to know a person, we're been through thick and thin. I've seen him angry, sad and super happy.
I've seen him laugh his heart out while I got ice cream all over my face when I was 11. I've held him while he cried all his tears out in my arms after his mom came home drunk one day and beat him up black and blue. I comforted him when he was terrified of talking to his father.
Those were big things! My mom always appreciated me for comforting and being there for him.
Killian looks down at my hand on his shoulder, his face solemn. His fingers twitch like he wants to reach out and touch it, but he holds back.
"Can I ask you something," he says, his voice suddenly serious.
Confused by the sudden change in tone, I nod silently.
Killian takes a deep breath. He still doesn't look directly at me, his gaze fixed on the floor.
"Do you promise not to laugh at me if I tell you something?" he asks, his voice betraying nervousness.
