Love Beyond Borders Scars Beyond Time

in preschool, and I remember being drawn to his curious nature and infectious smile. Our friendship blossomed effort

s. Alice Miller; my best friend, Vile Mahone, son of Mr. and

watching the street performers. Vile was always the first to suggest we try something new, whether it was climbing to the top of the playground jungle

e city transformed into a winter wonderland, and we'd spend hours building snowmen, making snow angels, and having epic sn

and head to the Hudson River or Prospect Park. Vile's dad would teach us how to start a campfire, and we'd roast marshmallow

I, his. We'd spend hours talking about our favorite books, music, and movies. He introduced me to the world of science

t way. At least, not then. We were each other's rock, supporting and encouraging each other through the

eering and history behind the bridge, while I marveled at its grandeur and the sense of connection it provided between the boroughs. We'd pause at the midpoint, and Vile would challe

e the world was ours for the taking. Little did we know, life had its own pl

per, a sense of belonging and understanding that only comes from sharing a lifetime of experiences. Vile was,

onstant source of comfort and strength. Even now, when I close my eyes, I can still see Vile's smile, his