Lost Everything

He was seventeen. I was sixteen. We were all kids. We were all bad. Everyone loved him because he was so pure, so honest, so kind and beautiful. Now his mother says that he was to good for this world. But I think the angel of God was mistaken when he took my friend that day.

It was cold and snowy and rainy. He ran away. We had been fighting that day. I didn't go after him. Nobody did. We just waited and waited. I texted him 'come home', he texted me back 'they drove him insane and now he is going to do it'. The clinic for junkies. Those idiots wouldn't let me search for him.

He always said that he would kill himself. He was a junky. Sometimes euphoric, sometimes miserable. Nobody took it seriously. They gave him pills. Those idiots. The side effects were suicidal thoughts. ******* idiots.

Now everyone is making excuses. Some people say he is selfish. But he is not selfish. He was the purest thing on this earth and nobody helped him or took him seriously and now he is dead. He couldn't handle this unfair world.

Now I'm over it. I try to forget. I wrote him a letter every single day in the first year but now I have even stopped counting the days. I have moved on with my life. I'm engaged. I couldn't imagine ever killing myself like he did. But one thing keeps us together. His drugs are now mine. His addiction is now mine. Still. They keep me from going insane. It's ironic but it's bonding.
Angryletter Angryletter
18-21, F
1 Response Dec 2, 2012

I could really feel the emotion through your story.