They had been my best friends since forever, as I remember it. Ever since our mothers started talking while waiting to pick us up from preschool. They were always early, and they always talked to each other, since there was nothing else to do. They found out this way that we were all the same age, and we were constantly set up on play dates with each other. Chelsea, Kara, Holly, Morgan and I would come running out of the building, waving around whatever dumb arts and crafts thing we had done that day, running to our mothers in their close knit circle that they always seemed to form. They would continue to talk for ten minutes or so, while us kids all played tag or some other dumb game in the yard.

Cute, isn’t it?

Not really. Yeah, it’s all fun and games to have four best friends that will never leave your side, four best friends that will be with you through everything. We were all different, we looked different and not two of us acted the same. Chelsea had the looks, with her curly brown hair and Hispanic background, her height and pretty face. She wasn’t into school, and we had to pound on her to do her homework. Well, more Kara than anyone. Kara was the brain, always having straight A’s and never forgetting about a project or assignment. She had dark skin and dark eyes, and was the shortest of all of us. Holly and Morgan were twins, with thick dark brown hair and freckles. They were into sports, both doing two totally different things, but both loving what they do more than anything. Holly was a dancer, ballet, mostly, and Morgan played basketball. Holly was very quiet, and didn’t talk too much, except to us. Morgan was her complete opposite, crazily outgoing and always making people laugh. And I was… what was I? I wasn’t extremely smart, wasn’t outstandingly pretty. I had blonde hair that barely reached my shoulders, pale watery blue eyes that looked dull against my skin. I could get better grades in school… but I don’t do anything to improve them. I procrastinate a lot, which is one of the reasons why my grades aren’t where they should be. I guess you could say I’m the screw up, the one that they all have to constantly try to improve. Why they still put up with me, I don’t know, but I’m glad they do.

So it was the five of us, going through elementary school together. We made it to the eighth grade when it happened. It being the horrible car accident. Morgan and her father were on their way to go get Holly from dance practice, and a semi truck that was driving too fast hit them. They were both rushed to the hospital, where her father was sent in for emergency surgery, and Morgan was pronounced dead on arrival.

The funeral was hard for all of us. Holly couldn’t move for weeks afterwards, and we all understood and tried to help her through it. It was difficult, and we all had to find out a way to move on through the pain.

We got through it though, all of us together. All the way until our junior year, where we are now. We didn’t forget about the accident, but we have moved on. Holly is a lot quieter, but what could you expect?