The Window - September 20, 2010

My friend, Samantha, died last year. Know one knows why, or how.... exept for me. She lived with her father, just across the street from me. She loved soccer, had a game every week. But last July was different. After her team had lost for the first time, she was furious. She told her father her team was the worst & that she quit soccer. Her father was shocked, but he didn't dare try to convince her to reconcider. That night, while her father slept, she snuck out of the house. She came over & said good-bye. I asked why, but she didn't answer. She turned around & started to run, her father secretly watching out his bedroom window. The next morning, I went over to talk to Samantha's father, but he wasn't home, nobody was... exept for a note on the door. It said: "Willa, Samantha has died, I died years ago. We are gone, won't say where though. See you when you dye as well." I looked up at his bedroom window, & there stood two sickly pale people: Samantha & her father. They waved goodbye, & just vanished into then air.

-Willa Angelo