The Best Friend's Dream

Chapter 1: Two Peas In A Pod

Shannon and Holly, best friends, two peas in a pod, whatever analogy you can think of for un-biological sisters. That's who we were, since the age of three, on the first day of day care. We both bawled our heads off the moment our mothers left us, and the only way we could be silenced was by being held by Louise, the woman in charge of the day care centre, all day.

When our mums came to pick us up they chatted for a bit, and from that day on we were inseparable. Summers filled with picnics in the park, exploring the woods, swimming and just having fun. Winters spent huddled around Shannon's fireplace (my house was a modern design, which excluded a chimney) drinking hot chocolate that was so saturated with marshmallows that we might as well have just had a bowl of them.

We even started planning our lives around the age of ten: a blue beach house that was no more than five minutes' walk from a golden beach in California, where both our families sometimes went for summer. A small dog called Toto (as to pay tribute to our Wizard of Oz obsession) and, of course, we were both going to be fashion designers, co-owning our very own clothing company.

We kept developing our plan as we got older, as we became more and more knowledgeable. We even knew a house which had been on the market for years which was right next to a Californian beach, a dog shelter for small dog breeds and a college we could go to so that we could study fashion.

Around the time we turned thirteen, Shannon and I had the only fight in our whole friendship that lasted more than 63 seconds. It lasted exactly 2 weeks, 5 days, 3 hours and 17 minutes, and it was started by a boy. Will was your average cute boy; brown, wavy hair that was always effortlessly in place, blue eyes that seemed to be made of pure, magical stardust and a personality that was almost as special as Shannon's. Irresistible.

Of course, us being only human, we both developed major crushes on him within three days of him starting school. He became the main subject of our conversations, and they all started to end with us debating about who he liked more. When he asked Shannon out three days after my thirteenth birthday I expected her to decline, valuing our friendship more than her love for him. She accepted.

I felt betrayed, hurt, cheated... jealous. I glared at her, ignored her texts and attempts to fix things, and spread rumours about her with the other girls. It took us 2 weeks, 5 days, 3 hours and 17 minutes to make up, and we have stayed well away from boys since, which is why they were not in our future, for now, at least.

Shannon was always pretty, with auburn curls that reached her waist, green eyes with flecks of gold in them and just enough freckles on her pale skin and just the right facial features. She looked like the kind of girl who's hair got whipped about her face by the wind and still looked perfect, who got into all sorts of trouble and got away with it and that was exactly who she was.

I look like an ugly version of the sort of girl who spends her life at the beach, with blue eyes that are just a bit too piercing, and skin that is just a little bit too orange. Not to mention my blonde hair, which I inherited from my mother, which, unlike hers, is lanky and is just a few shades too dark to look beautiful. In other words, a misshapen Barbie doll that was made in too much of a rush.

Our personalities were also so different. Shannon always wanted to run climb trees, go to the beach and play in her massive garden. She was addicted to the outdoors, and I was very much immune to it. I found the insects and birds that lived in her garden terrifying, and refused to go in the sea due to my fear of being dragged under the water by Ursula from The Little Mermaid (I was six, ok?).

I loved to read books, bake cakes with my mother, play princesses in my room with Shannon. We often disagreed on what to do, and our mothers normally had to step in to help form a compromise (which was usually that we played princesses outside). Sometimes I still don't get how we were so close, but I know one thing: Shannon Smith was the only person who I was myself around, and I didn't trust anyone, even my mother, more than her.

Many memories of our friendship are still vividly in my mind, but my absolute favourite one is her fifth birthday party. Our whole class was invited, and it was, obviously, all outside. Luckily it was August and the sun shined all afternoon, but what really made it special was the princess theme. Everyone came in pink and purple dresses, and Shannon was no exception.

Despite the fact she often made her distaste for princesses very clear, she wore a purple version of the dress I wore, and she wore a pink crown that was decorated with so many fake jewels that it was a wonder that it didn't way down her head. The two hour party was spent eating rainbow coloured cake that was covered in Smarties and jumping on a large, pink bouncy castle that was at the bottom of her garden. Pure joy is the only emotion I remember from that day, and I cherish that with all my heart. Memories like those are part of the reason that I loved being Shannon Smith's best friend.

So, this is my first story on here, as you can probably tell, and it's probably way too short and really bad, so I'm a hundred percent open to (nice) advice.

-Harib01