By Miriyha Davis
When she was twelve years old, she fell in love with Donald. He was blonde haired, blue eyed and had a smile to match his sweet persona. She was a cute black girl with pigtails and a pudgy stomach, but Donald didn’t seem to care about that. They giggled in class and passed notes as if they were the oldest of friends.
“I’m faster than the Flash at almost everything.” He’d say and she’d laugh, not really knowing who the Flash was until she was older and the internet was a thing.
When she was twelve and a half, Donald died. He loved to climb trees and test the limits often. One day, he ventured into the tall oak behind his house and had gone higher than he’d ever gone when he stepped on a dead branch. He plummeted several feet and his body was crushed upon impact.
She always figured he’d grow up to be one of those daredevils who leapt from planes or swam with sharks. He would climb Mount Everest and take a selfie or ride a camel in Egypt with only a canteen and some beef jerky. That was Donald. But he barely made it out of eighth grade when he was buried.
She found out when her first year of high school began and Donald was nowhere to be found. She’d thought perhaps he’d moved somewhere exotic like Africa or Australia. Perhaps his entire family had been daredevils and they needed a place with more perilous terrain than the southwestern United States. After the first week, she’d asked her friend Ailene about him. Ailene knew everything about everybody.
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