I know you probably won’t be expecting this from me. To be honest, I didn’t expect this from me too. You were that boy at Baba’s house that I never really liked because of your teases. I remember all the times your mummy dropped you over at Baba’s house and all the disaster you convinced me into causing with you at the kitchen.
Do you remember when you used to laugh at my hair? You used to call it a basket and say it was ugly and I will chase you round the while house trying to grab your mouth. You were my number one bully and I was your number one victim.
When I came again to Baba’s house for the summer as a teenager, you were absent and was told you travelled out for school when I asked around. I felt dull in my heart. May be, I missed you. I had no friend except you at that place.
Seeing you today at the local cemetary where baba was buried was something. It was a rush of feelings that I couldn’t really place. I was a teen all over again and right there I was stricken with how much I had missed your attention even though you were such a bully.
Don’t mind this weird me that wrote this. May be I just need a friend to reminisce all the moments and memories created at Baba’s house with. That’s if you will remember.
From your childhood friend, Lola.
P.s you still have that scar on your jaw that came from when we went to the stream disobeying Baba’s orders and you ended up on the stone trying to jump like a super man into the stream. I still laugh whenever I remember. Do you too?
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