Eva was born December 21, 1991.
On December 21, 1996, I caught my own hair on fire.
On December 21, 2000, Eva, myself, and fifteen other girls caused general havoc in the Symthes' basement.
On December 21, 2003, the number had been reduced to 6 total.
On December 21, 2005, Eva and I stayed up all night just talking.
December 21, 2006 was one of the worst days of my life. I was alone.
On December 21, 2007, I was a hairbreadth away from cutting.
Today is December 21, 2008 and the first night of Hanukkah, which I really do not feel like participating in.
Eva stays the same in my memories, while I change. One thing that has struck me especially in these last few months is how young Eva died. She'd be turning seventeen now, which is still very young in the grand scale of things, but she didn't even live to see fifteen. She never began the ninth grade. We were just kids. And sometimes I still feel like one.