Guilt of Envy

I stared at the swings at a distance: the swings we swung. Yellow wooden seats held by bright red chains. I missed feeling the air as I cut swiftly through it. But I missed something even more: her.

The swings were there. I was present too. Only, the one who made everything seem better than it was, was now somewhere far away. And the swings still squeaked as if nature was calling out to me, pitying my loneliness.

And I'm pretty sure my best friend was thinking no differently about me. I needed her yet I wanted her to stay away.

It's strange how sometimes, you cannot understand what you want. I had told the matron I wanted to be adopted too. But the home she had found for me was the complete opposite of where Giselle went: scary and sad. I'd said I didn't want to go. 

I don't like the matron. She found a family for me and sent Giselle instead. Sometimes I feel like she hates me. Or she's a sadist and I'm her poor victim.

She said Giselle was older and she had more right. For all I know, were were both eight. Only, she was a month older.

She calls weekly to apologize and like always, I pretend to sleep under the covers when I'm actually crying. She came over once too. But I ran away into the woods about a mile away.

The children told me she seemed very happy. She dressed much nicer and had grown healthier. And why wouldn't she be? She was taken by the lawyers after all. Her admiration burned me.

I know what emotion is ruling over me now. I'm jealous. Or envious. I'm not sure. I'm just aware of the fact that I don't like my best friend snatching things away from me...even when I know it's not her fault.