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The Enemy in Pink

My heart was pounding out of my chest. I took a few deep breaths and lifted my head slightly so that I could see what was outside. Had the enemies found our location? We had been so careful.

The Enemy in Pink


It was a quiet Saturday morning in August. The sun climbed up the sky and streaked through the bedroom windows. I was busy giving out orders to everyone else in the room. They were speechless, something that always frustrated me. Despite their silence, they got right to work making food and changing clothes. There was a loud noise outside. I jumped at the sound and crawled over to the window and sat beneath it keeping my head low.

This was a new territory for me and I did not know the landscape. My heart was pounding out of my chest. I took a few deep breaths and lifted my head slightly so that I could see what was outside. Had the enemies found our location? We had been so careful.

I watched as two enemy forces were fast approaching on their vehicles. They immediately spotted my brother and closed in on him. Surrounding him, he was trapped and outnumbered.

I watched as they questioned him. They were too far away so I could only make out mumbled noises and couldn’t hear what they were saying. They looked angry and one of them, the girl, glanced over at the house. I quickly ducked down so that she would not see me. My chest was tight with anxiety. I looked around the room for a weapon. I found the only rifle we had and secured it to my chest. I knew I only had one shot. We didn’t have any more ammo and had barely any supplies here. We were not prepared for an invasion.

I looked out again to check on my brother. He looked scared as he answered their questions. He was out there, exposed and alone. He should have stayed inside and waited until dark. He never listens to me.

Just as I was preparing to point my rifle out the window to provide back-up to my brother, they started heading in the direction of the house. That traitor--he gave away my position. I was so angry. My instincts told me that he couldn’t be trusted under pressure.

I ran over and tried to barricade the bedroom then looked out the window and saw them approach the front door. They pushed their way inside. I had little time to think. All I could do was ready myself in the room next to an old bookcase. There were two loud knocks on the door. I froze.

The door flew open.

“Kristin, Julie is here to meet you. She lives in the neighborhood and is your age.” my Mom said.

No. They found me. The girl called Julie timidly walked into the room and smiled wickedly at me. My brother (the traitor) and another boy stood in the hall behind her.

“Hi, I’m Julie.” She said suspiciously.

Yeah, right.

I panicked and ran right past her. I flew down the stairs as fast as my legs could take me. Just when I thought I was safe, I heard footsteps land behind me and saw a flash of pink fabric.

“Be my friend! Be my friend!” Julie screamed behind me, chasing me down the stairs.

What was this lunatic thinking? I ran through the hall and quick-thinking brought me into the sunroom. I closed the doors and quickly locked them behind me. Terrified, I sat down in the corner of the room with my arms wrapped around my legs. My eyes were closed and tears were streaming down my face.

I heard the girl, Julie, finally give up and leave.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I had just been introduced to my best friend.


This is the true story of how I met my best friend, Julie*. We were four years old. I had just moved into the neighborhood and I didn't have any friends yet—but I had a wild imagination. I was sitting in my bedroom, playing with my Barbie dolls and noticed some kids outside that were on a bike ride and had stopped to talk to my brother. My brother invited Julie and her brother in because Julie was my age and he thought we could meet before school started that year. To me, it really felt this way inside of my mind. I remember feeling terrified like I was in an action movie. I am so glad she didn’t give up on me. We are still best friends today and laugh about the story of how we first met.

*I've changed her name to protect her privacy.

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