• I can’t help to think it was my entire fault that she is gone. She was my friend, she was always there for me, but when she needed me, I blew her off like loose leaves fall from the sky. I could have save her but she is gone and I am to blame for it. She came to be with tears in her eyes, cheeks red as a lobster and heart in so much pain I could barely understand her. All I told her I will talk to you later, I need to talk to my boyfriend right now. I put a person I been with for a month over my best friend of ten years.
    It’s been years now of her death. I can still see pictures of her face in my head clear as day. Not a day goes by I don’t think of her. Her long blonde hair, big blue eyes, a little gap in the teeth, fair skin with a few spots and freckles that covered her forehead and cheeks and chin. When she smiled, everything that seemed cold got warm; the light in her eyes gave hope and had life. She spoke quietly most of the time. I can’t recall her ever yelling. It wasn’t her type. She rarely got angry or upset, she always seems happy all the time.
    Maybe if I saw threw her smile all the time, I could have save her. I thought she was on her period and just felt like crying. She didn’t message me or texted me for days, I though she didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I should of message her, I should have walked to her house to make sure she was okay, but I forgot all about her until something came on the news about a girl I went to school was found dead. It still didn’t quite click until I saw her profile. Her sister put R.I.P sister; you will be dearly missed….
    I couldn’t believe it, I was in shock. The news didn’t say how she died right away. I cried for hours, but then I started to think, crying won’t bring her back. I wanted answers! Not just how she died, but how I could be so blind that it happens. That day I found a letter in my mail box, it was from her. I remember how I felt as I read the letter, how was I supposed to know the dark pain that she held with thin. How she really felt about what people said about her and her looks and viewpoints on life. I wish I could see why she didn’t just say my name and tell me to help her.
    I am her best friend; she shouldn’t have to tell me there is something wrong. If she was able to read me like a book, I shouldn’t have to tell me and when she did, I brush her off like she was some guy hitting on me.

    I still have that letter it in a picture frame, behind her picture on my desk. The cops came to my house, and asked me a bunch of questions. I never showed them the letter she gave, I couldn’t give them the letter, I was thinking about her family. I wonder if they knew the darkness that she hid from everyone. As they asked me questions, I began to tear up big time to the point where I wasn’t able to talk. My face became red, my cheeks began to turn to fire and I wouldn’t breathe. I fell out of the chair, and became unconscious.
    In my moment of unconscious, I remember seeing her, smiling at everything and a dark cloud that was over her and yet she still smiled and laughs. She was on a swing going back and forth, back and forth. It was like the wind blowing in her hair. For the first time in my life, I felt relief. I then woke up, smiling. No more tears, no more feeling bad. She didn’t act on that darkness, she put it away. The cops ask me if I was okay. I couldn’t but feel like it’s still my fault but a resting one. I felt was she felt with the mix emotions about everything.
    A memorial was put in front of the school; kids of other schools came and gave respect. She wasn’t at all popular, but the friends she made, knew other kids. The memorial was covered in flowers, all kind of flowers, and though out the day, you could see butterflies flying around the flowers. She loved butterflies; she had a butterfly tattoo to her low arm. The kids that made fun of her because of her “flaws” never stepped foot near the memorial. But I knew they felt horrible.
    She had a gift of being able to read people, see though their fake smiles, their tuff attitude. Maybe that’s why she was an easy target, when she seen a sad person should would go up to them and ask them if everything okay, and either talk for a bit or get push and yelled at for knowing and asking. People though she was a stalker, she could always pin point the problem. She never told anyone of her gift but me.
    As life when on, they finally told people how she when, but that’s not important. She left marks on people, for a while at school, people began to show more respect to each other, no much of bulling happen after her death. It was like a reality check for a good bunch of the people. I saw more happiness within people. I saw kids be themselves and not get harsh beating and words. I saw some popular people talking to a group of “nerds.
    To this day, my best friend I still gives me inspiration, feel that horrible guilt about her death, but if she didn’t go, I wouldn’t had gotten this pain, and she wouldn’t have passed her gift on to me. I’m now a counselor at that school. Every year, I talk to as many children as I can. I get there bright and early and stay late. I won’t let another one death happen on my hands if I can help it.