A Friend

The painful past, I see it again. Somewhere there, right in front of my eyes. Replaying itself. She is there, as usual in her untidy uniform and unruly hair. Smiling, waving – my friend. Always in her uniform, always the age that she was gone. The 16 year old girl. There is nothing left but despair. I used to dream of her. Waking up in guilt. Where was humanity? Perhaps it had not left me. It left her.