Sandara POV (Bom special)

The alarm on Park Bom's cellular phone went on endlessly across my bedroom.. Non-stop I rolled over in my belley to   reach out on the remote controlled stereo.

Five minutes later, her alarm screamed again. I almost burned myself making ramen and this time it rang long enough almost annoying everyone else in the house.. I couldn't help it i went to her room..

I slapped the poor thing into silence

"Bom!" 

"Bommie?"

Geez.. Tangled long black hair, curled into her pillows stirred in sleep with her headphones.. Wrapped in cotton blanket like she had been freezing.. She snuggled closer to our younger hippo sibling shut eyes peaceful calm like a child fallen in the deepest sleep of her life..

Unbinding the window curtains the weather sounded refreashing in a soft rain

What makes the blue of the sky blue? 

We always do love growing up in a close family ties with a childhood friend, my bestfriend entitiles a spring of a family's smile. I always joked how seasons of moods that everybody rotates helplessly in her childish ways. It was even a relief i don't even know whether to dark or plain chocolate chips cookies were her favorite for glasses of milk or a childish tea party..

It was also blue when her childhood dream disappeared

The princess of springs,  and one of my dearest childhood friend whom i watch play in vibrant laughter handling a socceer ball like their dream. It was a kid's play in firsthand in memory of passing a ball in suspended image that she whirled to attack the goal. The sound of a friend's head slamming on the goal post as the spring girl missed my intented pass.

That's the scene as it stay that way no matter how many times I replay it in my head; our club members frozen in our places by news that is already bursting over us like a shell, and yet in memory forever still on that day, forever still on the near side of all the consequences

As I watch our faces fall open in surprise as a pulsing, sirenlike cries starts to pour from my friend's mouth

Can pain change the shape of a life?

Her head injury, as it turned out had completely crushed her skull. Hit on broadside, moving fast and flung her high through the air. Her face vaguely deep in coma for sevaral days, then opened her eyes, made small tasting movements of lips freezing coldly as the abulance took her away..

In the day after the funeral, I spent a lot of time visiting compulsively with my friend's orphaned keepsakes and toys. It wasn't i saw her crying as we crept into my friend's room as she was holding a bunch of baby toy frogs individualy.  I was also been crying because I had lost a friend too..

Like a sister  put my arms around her and gathered her towards me.. I buried my face on her neck grief sobs I knew that we would get through difficulty together. Petting her hair comfortingly, and held her the best that I could..

 As cold coming soon.. I felt a tug on my shirt. I knew she had to go away for a while too.. Her eyes were always crying and smiling as eyes filled with unhappiness. It was for her.. Even if i missed her laughter, too silly and unusually crazy like i have always seen her. As she held her hand to me on the airport. I looked at it for a couple of seconds, l was going to let it go.. She just smiled even in tears. I hesitated and felt my eyes burning too, returning a smile was as hard    as goodbyes too..

Walking around i still find outdated prescriptions around her room, some things we kept wasn't the greatest idea in the world.. But who was I to judge? She was walking in a giant-size secret as everyone do..There was no point arguing nor terrible jokes as much fun as things ..there was no point of laughing.. 

Everyday she sang and sang harder, it wasn't off key or perfect but unique.. She'd had a silly habit of singing RnB, ballads in the shower even though nobody seemed to care.. She wasn't ruining a bunch of good songs but sharing the sweetest warmth of her heart like an embrace...