My daughter Lily was five when she made her first friend.
Her name was Millie.She loved tea parties, playing dress up, makeovers, and sometimes even hide and seek.
Millie would always get angry when she couldn’t find Lily, and would always result to throwing temper tantrums whenever she was becoming frustrated with the game.
Once, it got so bad that my wife had to physically restrain Millie to keep her from hurting herself.
Apparently while I was at work, Millie and Lily decided to play a little hide and seek.
Millie had refused to play. She told Lily that she always knew the best hiding places and she always end up winning, but Lily was adamant that they play hide and seek.
As a frustrated Millie started counting, an excited lily went into hiding.
Hours flew by and Millie still hadn’t found Lily.
She was getting upset.
My wife told me she could hear Millie opening and slamming doors, yanking curtains off their rings, crying in frustration, and even flinging objects across the room.
That was when she shouted for both of them to stop it, and for Lily to come out already.
The house suddenly fell silent .
It was as if no one was home.
She thought that was the end of it and went back to washing the dishes .
Suddenly she felt eyes digging into her back. prompting her to peer over her shoulder at what was causing it.
Millie was standing in the doorway, glaring at her.
She looked furious. Her shoulders Rose and fell with each breath. Her fists were clenched. And her nose was scrunched up in such a way that breathing must have been difficult.
My wife could not tell for how long they both stood there staring at each other.
It felt almost like an eternity.
Then Millie moved snapping her head in the direction of the kitchen counter. Her gaze landing on a large table knife.
Millie started making her way to the counter.
She was just about to grab it when my wife swooped in, seizing the blade, and making sure to Hall every single cutlery she could find into the pantry.
When she turned around, Millie was gone.
Millie didn’t come back for weeks after that. We all thought she was gone for good.
Lily grew more distant from us as the days went by.
She wouldn’t talk, she wouldn’t eat, and she most certainly wouldn’t discuss what transpired that afternoon with Millie.
My wife tried to smooth things over by offering to attend a tea party, but Lily shook her head in response.
I took her out for multiple drives and bought her ice cream over a billion times, but she would only take a couple spoons, then leave the rest out to melt.
It was clear that Lily wasn’t happy. We were unable to get through to her no matter how hard we tried
But we weren’t going to stop trying either.
Last night, I took Lily out for a drive to a local restaurant.
I got a soda and a cheeseburger, but Lily just wanted the chicken.
I jokingly asked if she wanted the whole thing, but she shook her head.
“No. Just the thighs please.”
A bit deflated, I said alright. I proceeded to pull out my wallet and pay for the food.
As we exited the restaurant, I noticed Lily still had a drumstick in her left hand.
It was just the bone and there was no meat on it so I stopped and asked.
“Aren’t you going to get rid of that, honey?”
She shot me a look that I could only describe as scornful, before letting the bone drop to the ground, stomping on one end of the stick crushing it.
I kept my cool as I bent over to pick up the pieces, disposing of them in a nearby trash.
Lily just stood there not bothering to help.
I gestured for her to get in to the car, and She slammed the door as she settled in the back seat.
Once inside, I adjusted the rear view mirror before backing out of the parking lot.
Millie was glaring at the back of my head before quickly shifting to the side.
Just as we were about to hit the road, she asked to use the bathroom.
I waited while she got out of the car, and ran in the direction of the restaurant.
A minute later, she was back and had both her hands shoved into her dress pockets.
She tried playing the odd behaviour off with a smile but she had already dropped the ball.
Driving, I found myself glancing at the rear view mirror on occasions trying to get a read on her expression but I was unable to.
Her face remained neutral.
Looking back, I don’t know what scared me the most. The fact that she could do that now, or the fact that she wasn’t even trying to hide the jagged piece of bone sticking out of her pocket?
We pulled into the driveway at the same time my wife came out of the house to meet us.
Lily was fast asleep, with her face resting on the window.
My wife reached in to pick her up. She cradled her in her arms, sniffling, while simultaneously planting tiny kisses on her cheek and promising that she was going to be fine.
She then wiped her tears, and turned to face me.
I already knew what she was going to ask.
“Did she?”
“Yes.” I said. Reaching for the jagged piece of chicken bone sticking out of Lily’s pocket.
My wife turned cold when she saw it.
It wasn’t a knife, but what other reason did she have for bringing it along.
I broke it in two, then flung it across the street.
“She’s back.” I said with a sigh.
“Millie is back.”