her friend tony

she grew up a "special dark": carefully packaged and beautifully brown, but bitter when bitten into. her looks were an "acquired" taste. she had long legs which were always appealing to the men, but her dark skin was always something to laugh at, not appreciate. as a child, she was placed in a foster home after her mom discarded her in favor of the new family she was creating with her new husband. from that moment on, she viewed herself as someone who could be easily forgotten, cuz if your own momma doesn't want you, who will?

at age seven, she created an imaginary friend named tony. tony knew all of her deepest, darkest secrets. he sat silently while she shared the moments of her day with him, nodding approvingly after she told him about the good grades she got on her report card. he always dropped what he was doing to listen to her, like she was the most important person in the world and every word bursting from her lips was a budding orchid, fragile and flawless.

when she was placed in the foster home, tony packed his bags and followed her. he didn't need much space for his things, and the only food he required was her attention, which she was happy to give. at night, as the shadows of night threatened to enfold her in their clutches, tony would appear on her pillow to whisper courage into her ears. his whispers soothed her enough so that she could go to sleep without worry. in the morning she would awaken to see tony still there on her pillow, standing guard after fighting the darkness from her room and replacing them with the aurulent rays of a new day's sun.

(to be continued...)