I saw Emily for the first time when we were both Six. Her parents bought the house next to ours.
I was watching the movers through my bedroom window. I remember I had to ask my Mum to hold me up so I could see out the window. I was born without one of my legs and was wobbly on my prosthetic.
Mum kept a firm grip on me and I watched Emily get out of her parents car. From this far away all I could see was the deep red of her hair. In Pigtails that were unusually high because her mother was busy, and never had time to do them properly.
She was yelling at her parents. Knowing Emily, it was probably because she was upset about the move. I could see her arms waving and her feet stomping as she argued with them.
Even then, I loved her.
At Eighteen, I thought I hated her.
I just wanted her to love me, that was my deepest desire. She was my deepest desire.
I think, despite my leg, she would have loved me. If it wasn’t for Brad. He makes my stomach turn, mostly because he was always my worst bully. I still have a scar above my nose where he kicked my prosthetic out from under me in Fifth grade.
He is the ultimate jock. Big, strong, with wavy brown hair and brown eyes. Skin thats tanned from being out in the sun. Not small and pasty like me, its hard to play sports when you need both legs to do most of them.
Emily says that he’s just misunderstood that underneath all that muscle and arrogance he’s a sensitive soul. I can’t really stand to look at the two of them together. I can’t listen to her say that she loves him. So Emily and I have seen each other less.
She loves Brad, and I hate her for it.