Saying Goodbye

Max Rivers was the boy I hated since I was five.

Our feud started on one beautiful, sunny morning in Grant Park, and over the years became legendary throughout the town. Everyone knew.

Everyone knew that it began on the day my mother bought me a doll. Plastic, shiny, smiley face, frilly dresses and all; I called her Cindy and it was instant love between us.

On that fateful day in the park, I was playing with Cindy in the grass, weaving her between the grass which I named Daisy Forest and enjoying the sunshine while my mother was buying me an ice cream, when i saw a shadow looming over my world.

I looked up to see a boy my age staring down at the doll in my hands. He had a green eyes, hair streaked with midnight and prominent frown, with pouted lips and misery surrounding him.

I felt the sun shrivel up.

Without a word, he tore Cindy from my grasp. I fought pretty hard to get her back and raked his arm in the process (he still has the scar to this very day) and we tore each others clothes and hair and face and we tore the grass from the ground and on that day, we tore up our morals.

He ran with Cindy and I chased him, knocked his feet from under him and pinned him down to the ground.

By this time my mother, and the rest of Grant Park were watching while we scrabbled and fought and tore and screamed and punched each other to a pulp.

I still don't really know who got in more trouble, Max or I, but it doesn't really matter.

What matters is that we are blood sworn enemies, and one of these days I'm going to kick his ass.