Mar 2014
The memory seems more like a never ending dream. Actually, it is a nightmare replaying constantly in my head. I close my eyes and that’s all I can see. Even after all these years. It’s like someone got a red-hot brander and seared the inside of my brain with it. I tried to drown the memories out, but they always have a way of crawling back up to the surface. Its something I have to deal with for the rest of my life.
I can’t help but look into the cold, blank eyes. The last time I saw them, they were a bright, beautiful, blue and gleaming with potential. But that dramatically changed. Now all that’s left is a hollow, dead stare from a stranger I use to know. I feel goose bumps rise all over my body. My hand rests on her cold, stiff shoulder. How long has she been here? Her porcelain skin was already beginning to have a bluish tint creep across it. I know it’s too late, but I try to shake her and call her name hoping for a miracle. The pools of scarlet collecting around her head quiet that hope and desperation. It’s a silent reminder that’s there’s no way to fix this, that the deed is done. It something I’ll have to deal with for the rest of my life.
Tears stream down my cheeks; I can’t seem to make myself move from that spot to get help. It felt like I was frozen in time looking at the empty shell of a fallen friend. She picked the time that she was left all alone to succumb to her poisonous thoughts. Her mother was away on business, her brother was at his shift for work and she and I weren’t speaking at the time. She probably truly felt alone. Still, I should have known this was going to happen. We got into a huge fight a few days before all of this happened. She was upset with me because I brought up how her self-destructive behavior will impact her greatly in the future and how she should talk to a professional for help in order to fix her deep seeded emotional trauma. Unfortunately, she took this as a sign of me abandoning her in her time of need. That was on a Thursday. She didn’t speak to me for two days, I received word from other people that she was abusing substances and self-harming yet again. That’s when I was fed up with this petty argument and went to go clear things up with her and try to help. I’ll never forget the day I walked to her house that Sunday afternoon. When I got there, the door was unlocked so I knew she was home. I called for her, but didn’t get an answer. A pang of worry creped in the pit of my stomach. I raced up the stairs to her room and saw her motionless body at her desk…
I hear the front door open and someone coming up the stairs. It was her older brother. I call to him in broken sobs. He rushes in and freezes as I did, taking in the sight. He calls 911 and runs to her side, crying. It seems like endless hours of waiting for help to arrive. As we wait he pulls her in his arms and cries uncontrollably asking how and why she did this. I look up at the desk and fine two letters; one has my name on it. I pick it up and slide it into my coat pocket. When the police arrived with the ambulance, they took the other letter for evidence. After she was removed from the room, the officer asked her brother and I questions then left us alone in her room.
I stayed with him that night. He called their mom and she was on the first flight back. The entire night he and I just sat on the couch silent. We both felt numb. My best friend, his sister is dead. After his mom got back home, she set up a funeral for her daughter. She avoided the news and paper by having a small gathering for family only. I was never given the chance to say goodbye to my friend. Instead I just sat in my room with her letter gripped tightly in my hands.
Fast forward a few years and I’m in my bed writing this very story. I still keep the letter, but it still remains sealed. Maybe someday I’ll have the courage to open it and read her last thoughts for me but for now, it stays hidden safe in my drawer. I still stay in touch with her brother, and we both continue to heal over time. The memories will always stay with us though. It’s something we’ll just have to deal with. Now I know that she did what she had to do in order to finally have peace. She felt there was no other way. I just wished she held out for a little bit longer to see that life may be hard but it does get better and its worth fighting for. If I learned anything from that experience, it’s that. She taught me the value of life. She taught me to always be strong and not to cave into the pressures and struggles life brings. Because of her, I am the person I am today, and she will always remain in my heart.
I can’t help but look into the cold, blank eyes. The last time I saw them, they were a bright, beautiful, blue and gleaming with potential. But that dramatically changed. Now all that’s left is a hollow, dead stare from a stranger I use to know. I feel goose bumps rise all over my body. My hand rests on her cold, stiff shoulder. How long has she been here? Her porcelain skin was already beginning to have a bluish tint creep across it. I know it’s too late, but I try to shake her and call her name hoping for a miracle. The pools of scarlet collecting around her head quiet that hope and desperation. It’s a silent reminder that’s there’s no way to fix this, that the deed is done. It something I’ll have to deal with for the rest of my life.
Tears stream down my cheeks; I can’t seem to make myself move from that spot to get help. It felt like I was frozen in time looking at the empty shell of a fallen friend. She picked the time that she was left all alone to succumb to her poisonous thoughts. Her mother was away on business, her brother was at his shift for work and she and I weren’t speaking at the time. She probably truly felt alone. Still, I should have known this was going to happen. We got into a huge fight a few days before all of this happened. She was upset with me because I brought up how her self-destructive behavior will impact her greatly in the future and how she should talk to a professional for help in order to fix her deep seeded emotional trauma. Unfortunately, she took this as a sign of me abandoning her in her time of need. That was on a Thursday. She didn’t speak to me for two days, I received word from other people that she was abusing substances and self-harming yet again. That’s when I was fed up with this petty argument and went to go clear things up with her and try to help. I’ll never forget the day I walked to her house that Sunday afternoon. When I got there, the door was unlocked so I knew she was home. I called for her, but didn’t get an answer. A pang of worry creped in the pit of my stomach. I raced up the stairs to her room and saw her motionless body at her desk…
I hear the front door open and someone coming up the stairs. It was her older brother. I call to him in broken sobs. He rushes in and freezes as I did, taking in the sight. He calls 911 and runs to her side, crying. It seems like endless hours of waiting for help to arrive. As we wait he pulls her in his arms and cries uncontrollably asking how and why she did this. I look up at the desk and fine two letters; one has my name on it. I pick it up and slide it into my coat pocket. When the police arrived with the ambulance, they took the other letter for evidence. After she was removed from the room, the officer asked her brother and I questions then left us alone in her room.
I stayed with him that night. He called their mom and she was on the first flight back. The entire night he and I just sat on the couch silent. We both felt numb. My best friend, his sister is dead. After his mom got back home, she set up a funeral for her daughter. She avoided the news and paper by having a small gathering for family only. I was never given the chance to say goodbye to my friend. Instead I just sat in my room with her letter gripped tightly in my hands.
Fast forward a few years and I’m in my bed writing this very story. I still keep the letter, but it still remains sealed. Maybe someday I’ll have the courage to open it and read her last thoughts for me but for now, it stays hidden safe in my drawer. I still stay in touch with her brother, and we both continue to heal over time. The memories will always stay with us though. It’s something we’ll just have to deal with. Now I know that she did what she had to do in order to finally have peace. She felt there was no other way. I just wished she held out for a little bit longer to see that life may be hard but it does get better and its worth fighting for. If I learned anything from that experience, it’s that. She taught me the value of life. She taught me to always be strong and not to cave into the pressures and struggles life brings. Because of her, I am the person I am today, and she will always remain in my heart.
