Childhood Games

~Prologue~

Alan

"Help me!" she screamed.

But I didn't.

I just looked at her as she fell to the ground full of wood chips. She seems so pathetic in that state.

She wiped off her plaid dress, dusted off her shiny Mary-Janes, and clapped her tiny olive colored hands so that all the wood chips weren't sticking onto her in a messy fashion. She looked up at me with her signature death stare which almost could pass for a constipated look. I tried my best to stifle a laugh.

"I fell!" she shouted, "Come down and get me right now, Allie!"

I shook my head and felt the breeze sweep up my hair from my face. I was the King of these monkey bars and this girl was going to deal with the ways of my reign, for she was the mere peasant who would take care of my every need.

"GET DOWN HERE NOW!"

My painfully agitating peasant.

She stood up, folding her arms across her chest.

"Allie, if you don't come down here, I'm gonna tell Auntie and Uncle when I see them, and I'll hate you forever," she said. She was so dramatic.

I jumped down next her and stared into her eyes.

"Are you happy now?" I asked. She had a triumphant smile.

So much for being a King, I thought to myself.

My cheeks grew red with anger as I turned my back to her. I couldn't stand losing to her. I couldn't stand losing to anyone for that matter. It made me feel weak, and weak is a word that I didn't want to associate myself with even at the age of ten. I was supposed to be a man.

A second later, I felt her spin me around so that I was looking directly into her eyes. She looked as if she were looking for something within them. I averted them quickly.

"Please look at me," she requested. So I did. I glanced over the entirety of what was Naomi.

She had coarse hair that was a mixture of browns, reds, and blacks tied up in two pigtails that were graced with white ribbons. Her skin color was that of olive that darkened quickly with the presence of the sun and looked like gold. Her head was far too big for her body, but I thought that's what made her unique even if she would cry about it to me when people weren't around. But the feature Naomi was known for were something so trivial:

Her eyes.

Naomi had eyes that changed colors depending on her mood, the sun's rays, or whether or not she had chocolate an hour before. Her irises journeyed every hue of brown known to man. They were a blessing and a curse in a way where she was a dead giveaway for whatever it was she was feeling at a particular moment. And at this moment, they were a warm mahogany. She was searching for an answer.

"I'm looking at you, Naomi," I responded. She tilted her head and gave me a small smile. It looked pained. Something felt warm in my chest.

"You're my best friend. My only friend. Please don't be mad at me," she plead. "I have no one else."

And I knew that. I knew that from the very beginning I was the only person she could rely on in her world. That was position and my responsibility even if I didn't know what that really entailed at that time. I sighed, and opened my arms signaling for a hug.

She began laughing and shooing me away from her, "No way. You're gross, and I don't want to give your sweaty self a hug."

I clicked my tongue and dropped my arms, but I laughed along.

"You're my best friend," she repeated softly.

"And that's a promise of forever," I responded.

"More than forever," she smiled.

And I know we meant it.

I mean, I did mean it.

I just... Couldn't keep it for a while.