We were so young when we met. We stood side by side that morning, when we had no friend in that place. Oh, I mean when you had no friend in that place. That place was familiar to me, I lived there more than half of my life. At that time, though, I felt just as anxious as you. Adrenaline ran fast in every drop of blood in our young bodies. I told you my name and you told me your name. A name that will be printed someowhere on my brain's hollowing forever. I made a friend, I thought. I was elated. I barely remember our conversation, but I remember I envied your unique-shaped eyes that reminded me of a big, might hawk.
One day, you came with a super short haircut. To be honest, I think it didn't fit you well. I liked your extra curly hair. But I didn't tell you, or did I? I forgot. We talked once in a while, but I never really got to know you. Unfortunately, we were barely friends. You found a bunch of cool kids where you fit in. I didn't fit in anywhere. Don't worry, I liked it like that.
The blue on our flouncy skirts started to fade. Your curls started to grew. You were talking to that big girl. I always thought she'd be a daughter of Ares in those greek myth tales. But then again, it might impossible for a girl like her to have even just a drop of god's blood. But you chose her to be your friend and left me there in the corner of small classroom. I didn't mind, I barely remember the way our paths cross each others', anyway.
The blue on our skirts had completely faded. We had to change it with a grey one soon. But you and I didn't change. You were you, the girl with lots of friends at the top of pyramid. I was me, the girl with less friends, being laughed at and teased, but I believed I was free. In fact, I still am.
So we had to change our outworn blue skirts because we grew up and they were no longer fit our new women' hips. The place became our second home. It didn't mean we became close, though. I didn't want to be your friend. Yes, the time destiny decided to bumped my life into yours I thought I made a new friend. Then I realised you were not a friend. You just someone that happened to be there on the side of the road. I don't know who exactly you are. I just know your name. Your funny, unique name.
Even now when we are not in that place anymore, you are still there. We are still barely friends. But I started to found out a bit about you. You like stories. Just like I do. You love those tales about princesses and baroness. Maybe stories about small towns in Japan. Oh, look! You even love that crazy hardcore psycopath who skinned young girls. Yes, I do, too. You like movies. Just like I do. Maybe it's oil paints running through our veins instead of bloods. Our hearts beat for art.
It makes me wonder, how someone like you, who appreciate beauty in its best form could be so heartless. Maybe you put your fragile little heart in a glass box under your bed. You forgot that people are just another version of you so you gotta be nice instead of making fun of them. You just forgot.
Or maybe it's me. I wonder if I had more time with you and actually talk to you, would I smell a wonderful scent of your rose instead of get distracted by its thorn? But you wear your devil's horn in front of me. At the end I chose to just let you passed me by and not even bother to look at you any longer.
In our journey, you took my bravery. You and all your decayed witches friends. But maybe it's the destiny's plan to make me learn how to survive in this lunatic circus. Now I feel grateful I didn't chose you to accompany my youth. Because if I did, I might became one of the decayed witches.