Another puff of the joint she brought and now I see it. Her smile when she giggles, her snort when she laughs. It’s addicting. We come here everyday after school and just hangout. We would talk about how our days were and what was coming up during the week. Her parents aren’t really parents to say the least. She picks up her brother from daycare everyday after she leaves from here. She will go home and feed him macaroni or some chef boyardee, usually whatever canned food she could find. It was only once that she had to steal from the mini mart down the road. It had been days since her or her brother had eaten. It’s not an easy life. Her father has laid hands on her a time or two. I told her to report it, but she was too scared he would find out and do much worse things. I would report it, but then I’m not sure if I would ever see her again. One day she came after school with a busted lip, bruises on her back and a black eye. I promised her I wouldn’t call the police, but I lied. I couldn’t stand to see her in pain like that. That day before we left, we spray painted the wall together. We knew what we both wanted. A life with each other, a life worth living. Something neither of us knew we could have. I never saw her again after that. 10 years later and this abandoned shed withstood storms and wildfires. She was indeed my first true love. I would have withstood any storm or wildfire for her.