Everyone has that one friend growing up. It might be a younger sister or an elder one but there was someone who was always close to the heart and knew what was happening in their lives every moment.
Mine was Marilyn.
I had received her by standing on my door excitedly. I was jumping back and forth to receive someone who was going to be there for me forever. Estelle and mother were always busy in one thing or the other and Catherine was too small to talk or play with me.
But when she died I felt like she had taken a part of me with her. I was heartbroken at the loss of her. She was there when I mourned for the death of my mother and then within a night she was taken away from me to help me escape.
"Please," I begged him again as a tear dropped on my cheek, "Tristan I need to know if she is Marilyn or not."