I remember her eyes.They were always so different.They drew you towards her,like her long,wavy blonde hair.When we were children they were dark brown, inquisitive,quick, deep,and understanding.I remember how we used to talk,we were such good friends.I remember how interested her eyes looked when i talked, how she made me feel like what I was saying was the only thing that mattered in the world.How they used to laugh when we giggled over boys.I remember how they changed.How she changed, how I changed.I remember when she was no longer a friend, but a teacher. When her eyes no longer sparkled, but were dark and deep, an epitome of darkness and wisdom, sadness too.I remember how the world weighed down upon her.I remember when her eyes changed color, changing with her moods.They were rarely a contented brown; they were a sad black, an ice cold blue, or an angry red. Hazel when she was just ok.Now, after her duty is done, she is free and I no longer see her, I’m haunted by the memory of her eyes, still watching me.

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