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Prologue

There are moments when you realize that nothing will ever be the same . The day Corina Abington died was one of them

She wasn’t sick. She had no terminal illness. Her life was nothing like the ones you in lifetime movies, balded heads and stories of childhoods plagued by disease and hardship. No, Corina was perfect. At least to the rest of the world.

Chapter 1

To understand everything I’m going to tell you, you have to pay attention from the beginning. It’s a long story, one with many twists and turns. It might take a long time but someone should know because, until this point, no one has listened to my side of the story and I’m certainly done waiting for someone to ask.

See, Cori and I were best friends, the kind of best friends you see in corny adolescent dramas. We met when we were three years old completely by chance. There was a playground in the center of our neighborhood. My parents brought me there every day.I don’t remember meeting Cori, she’s one of those people that you don’t remember meeting, who’s just always been there, a constant in a life full of change. I mean know the story… it goes like this.

One day my mother and father were taking me to the playground like they did everyday. We had lived in the neighborhood since I was born and we had ground accustom to our daily trip up the street when my dad came home from court.

I was not a very social child. I liked my parents. I was the kid who screamed when my parents went to the bathroom or into the kitchen to make me lunch. I knew they would be back but I still didn’t like them to leave. This was never a problem when we went to the playground because until then there had been no other constant children in our neighborhood. Some would come from other towns to use the playground but the travelers generally came in packs.

On this day however there was another child. She was here withy her mother and she was not like me. I had always been dressed in the most instyle clothes; Gap jeans, Nike sneakers, frilly dressed. My father was a lawyer, my mother a pediatric nurse. Cori was dressed in what were obviously ‘hand-me-downs’ and her mother’s cloths had probably come from the Salvation Army. But my parents didn’t see that when they looked at Cori, they saw another three year old girl, and an opportunity to give me the beginning of sociablity which all the books said were important. And though I didn’t want to my parents pushed me to interact… they would give her my ball so that I would chase after it. When the ice-cream truck came they asked Cori’s mother if she could have one too. That was the first of many ice-cream cones. It became a daily occurance.

Soon our mothers ad developed a friendship, though they were exact opposites. Shannon Dorety, Cori’s mother, was a single mother of three, Cori being the youngest. She had a job at the local grocery store where she made $5.30 an hour. My mother was content with me, her only child, and made good money and had comfortable hours at a local Doctor’s office. The only thing that the two rally had in common was the age of their daughters and their neighborhood, though Shannon and her children lived in the apartment buildings where many mothers wouldn’t dare let their children go.