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"The Start: November 6th, 2006."
November 6th, 2006.
Dearest Violet,
You're silent. You're still silent. I don't understand how you haven't spoken for so long. You used to be the most talkative person I knew. You could talk about anything for hours on end even if you didn't know anything about the subject matter. You used to have something to say for everything. A smartass comeback or sassy remark to someone who made a stupid comment. I loved that about you. I was informed you might move past it after the grieving process, and dear God, I hope so. I miss your voice. I know I can't hear it because I'm not with you, but knowing that I couldn't, even if I was, is an awful feeling.
Do you remember the day when we first met? I remember it like it was yesterday; November sixth, 1994. It was back when we were seven in second grade. I was new to school and I remember walking into the class with my mom. The school year had already started and I didn't know who to sit with or what to do, so I pretended to be scared so my mother wouldn't have to leave.
I noticed you first. You stood out from everyone else. You had on your usual purple shirt with black pants and purple shoes, and your long black hair (that you always sat on) was falling down your back. I noticed how your table group was having a deep conversation whereas all the others were fighting about who wanted to use what colour clay. I remember when the teacher sent me to sit at your table. I thought I would never get along with you guys because I barely spoke and you were all talking nonstop, but I sat down and you immediately gave me half of your clay. You liked to introduce yourself as "Violet Gray. My name is two pretty colours but together they make one gross one, trust me I've tried." to everyone. I liked you instantly after that.
When the bell rang for recess you helped everyone put their jackets and scarves on before you even cleaned up your lunch. You were the most selfless person I knew, even when you were seven. Do you remember how you made me play in the leaves with you? You said you had played with every other kid in the second grade so you had to play with me, too, but I think you secretly didn't want me to feel left out while everyone else played together.
I figured the next day you would almost forget about everything, and go back to playing with your usual friends. I found out that morning that you didn't have any "usual friends." As soon as you arrived in the morning you walked right up to me with a different purple shirt on and introduced yourself as "Violet Gray" again, as if I had forgotten. You played with me the whole day, and then the whole week, and then the whole year. We became best friends before I even knew what a best friend was back then.
You're my best friend, Violet. Always remember that, no matter what.
