May Allah protect her from the plots of shaytan

The strangest things always happened to her. She always had fantastically absurd stories and excuses. I would listen to them with a mix of skepticism and amusement. At first I would think, so what if she told exaggerated stories, as long as they didn't hurt and were entertaining. Later I would come to realized that she never told a lie; Her world was just very different from mine. Her life was hilariously awkward. And I loved her.

We would often play in the field between our houses, run around the neighborhood making mischief. Her mom would lecture me not to wear shorts, and my mom always tried to feed her to death. She convinced me to wear hijab in second grade, it was our cool dress code. She is in almost every memory I have of childhood and adolescences.

Then her broken home broke her heart, she was gone and so were the days not marred by adult problems. I would hear about her through the gossip channels, that she moved away, fell for the wrong boy, kids, that her family put her through hell. Everybody failed her, family, friends, community, everyone. And now shes gone.