Betrayed

By my bigger, best friend

She took my new, best ever doll. On Christmas day. I found it in her cupboard weeks later stripped of it’s darling clothes. Shoes and socks, white shirt and blue jacket. Missing forever.

She plonked me in the sandbox. Said “I am the mother.” Fed me sand and called it pudding. Damp and gritty I mushed it around in my mouth before spitting.

“Eat worms” she said. Holding one up wiggling and warm. I said “no” and shook my head. She sighed and said I was a “bad baby.”

Trundled me up the stairs. Tucked me into my bed. “Night night.” Turned out the lights. Came back in making ghost noises while I screamed. Fun. But was it?

Then and also:

Sitting on her mother’s steps. Hungry. For real food though. She brings back bread she snuck from the kitchen. A slice of plain white bread. I eat mine and she gives me hers too. Pulling it apart, piece by piece into my mouth.

Up a tree. In the yard. We climb up and she helps me down. Puts my feet on the branches I can reach.

Cold, in the woods. Starts to rain. Takes my hand. We run home. Together.

The ultimate betrayal. She goes to school. Moves away. Gone.

Lost to me forever. My older, bestest friend.