I went to my best friends house today. Technically it’s her old house, but I don’t want to acknowledge that fact, so its her house. I don’t care whose has the deed, it has her, and her family whose I have grown to know, like and respect as if they were my own, all over it. As I looked at it, I thought about all the memories that I have there, all the things that my best friend and I had talked about. As I walked up the street, I thought about all the times that she and I walked from our small primary school to her house, the street we walked down really quickly because it always had someone that looked like they were going to kidnap us on it. I looked at the gate, where her sisters once waited for my sister and I, when we would come to visit. I looked at the veranda, where we used to sit, and I looked at the pillar I could never climb up. I wish I had tried harder to now. I saw flower bed that we lay down in, when we were playing hide and seek. Then I saw the spot where we both sat, staring at he for sale sign, outside the house. I remember how unhappy she looked. I remember how ugly the real estate agent looked. I just felt so powerless. I didn’t know what was going to happen, she did, well sort of, since it wasn’t the first time. I didn’t know it was going to hurt this badly. Now I feel lost.