I remember us all sneaking across fences to grab the cooler full of beers she said were behind her dad's house. The back lights came on and we became swift as wind, running down alongside the river bank laughing and choking drunk all of us were. But we got our beers.

I remember leaving the house party, stumbling from one side of town to the other, smashing every pumpkin I saw along the way. When you found me, I was dazed. You said you just followed the guts along side the road and smiled.

I remember the bonfire at the moon towers, they drove off the flats in a fit of youth and invincibility. I half heartedly mocked, "they're gonna wreck. " Two hours later we picked them up from the side of a dirt, gravel, road as they walked away from the shattered glass and mangled trees. He still thanks me to this day for the ride home.

I remember walking down the street with you and that ******* my back, the street in front of your house. We all looked up for some reason and saw that ghostly flash of light pass across the front of the light pole. We froze, and then calmly walked back to your front porch, ours brains wracked with what it could have been. We still don't know.

I remember seeing you at her funeral, you were torn down and she was being laid to rest at an age much to young, only 15. You were with your new boyfriend but you still said you wished it was me by your side and for a moment life didn't seem so grey and hazy. I still never apologized for being who I was. I'm sorry.

I remember more about the sleepy little town we all grew in than I care to admit, holding all these moments close to my heart. It was the only place that felt like it accepted me. Even now that everyone is gone and our shades haunt that high school, I still feel a presence when I go back home to visit. Our little Donnie Darko town.