I remember the day so clearly. Her curly brown hair that touched her shoulders and a white blouse and black pencil skirt. Heels clinking against the pavement as she lead the way through the crowded streets, hand holding my small fingers. She'd bought me ice-cream earlier, mint chocolate with chunks of snickers in it with what I now know was money we didn't have, and with the little we did was never spent on things such as ice cream. She checked every price tag, every cent and every product she ever purchased. I learnt what was important and what wasn't. Snacks and toys weren't impossible, survival was. It didn't matter if I didn't have a brand new bag every term, the old one could hold everything from what little clothes I did have and the two notebooks with scribbles on the corners. The bag was on my back as I licked the ice cream, walking hand in hand with someone who always said I loved you before bed and always made sure I looked my best before school. It's only until your older that you realize how messed up it all was. How each acting was calculations and each word was a lie to your face. But sometimes, I think I miss that. I miss the lies, even if they didn't mean anyhting I could pretend they did. That they gave me the same warmth that use to keep me warm on those colder nights. But notting last forever. The people who hurt you aren't always the strangers, but rather the ones who are closest to you.
