She was a stranger. She smiled at me. She was cute and didn’t look like a trouble maker like other kids. She helped me up when I fell. I asked her, “why are you so nice to an old lady?” She replied plainly that it was “because were the same, I need someone to help me up, when I fall too.” That made me like her.
So I watched her as she smiled and walked off. Mumbling a word I couldn’t hear.
She was in my school. She was just a girl, she got annoyed and would argue and curse but she was happy. Not content, actually happy. She wasn’t the prettiest, she was nice enough, but didn’t really want to be there sometimes. I remember asking her one time what she would do afterwards and she said “to be honest I just want to get out of this shithole. I wanna help people, make them smile.” These words made me respect her.
I saw her smile as she continued to daydream. Mumbling a word I couldn’t hear.
She was my friend. Offering kind advice and being there for everyone. Joking around and laughing together. She had a fiery personality but a bit shy with everyone else. She would consult a friend about a boyfriend even if she didn’t give a shit, she would do it. She was there and that was enough.
She would just do it and move on. She said words that sometimes I couldn’t hear but before I could ask she was already gone.
She was my sister. We got on, fought then quickly reconciled and because of this I knew that in the end we would always be okay. She told me about her day. We would support each other. We never said it to each other but knew it anyway- we loved each other. “Remember that time you hit that boy?” I asked. “Yeah. Good times. Remember that time when we were little and you cut my hair,” she said. We did this a lot reminisced and laughed about it. “Remember that you let me.” That was it just us remembering.
She laughed and strolled off. Mumbling a word I couldn’t hear.
She was my daughter. She was happy and grateful. She wanted to make a difference and live. She wanted to be her. She wasn’t confident, but she knew who she was and what she wanted to be. We would talk about what we would do together, just making plans.
She would grin and wander off. I hate how she would mumble but now I regret not hearing those words.
She was my daughter too. We know we loved on another but it didn’t hurt to say it. “I love you,” she would say. “I love you too baby”, she would always be my baby.
She kissed me on the cheek and pranced off and said the word