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This is a very deep and true story about myself. It may be hard to read, but it is apart of my morning process..

I have a friend, or a guy that was once my best friend… I let him, no, I pushed him away and that is something I will always regret.

I will never forget one day of our friendship, I will never forget this day at all.

We use to tell each other everything, I mean everything. Not only were we with each other about 10 hours a day, but the other hours were shared via talk. We had a friend group we were apart of and one day we were all hanging out. I remember him coming to me and the person I called my best friend at the time and he said, “I am going to leave now and just wanted to say goodbye,” but we were in the middle of a game, and simple ask him to wait a few minutes. By the time the game had ended we turned to say our goodbyes, he had gone. We search the whole building for him before someone said he was outside. We ran to him and asked him if it was his parents, they were always forcing him home. “No” is all he would say, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” a simple shake of his head. “Well at least let us drive you.. Here come to our car and we’ll take you wherever you want to go.” “I want to walk.”

The rest is sort of a blur, somehow we got him back and inside and we were left just the three of us, the person I called my best friend, myself, and him. We were all a very tight trio back then. He shared great gratitude to us, thanking us for bringing him back and chasing him out the door. “We our here for you, thick and thin, no matter what happens to you or us.” He started to cry at this point and tried to talk, but couldn’t. After a minute or two, he hugged us and thanked us again. Me and my so called best friend shared a quizzical look, but dare not say a word; accepting his hugs and assuring our love and friendship. A little time passed in thick silence, when he finally spoke. His words were fragile and the air thick and muffled, it was as the whole world stopped just for this moment. “I was walking to the bridge… the one between here and my house,” some more time passed, “I was going to climb the fence and jump”

I cannot tell you what happened after that, not a word said or a thing done. My whole world had stopped. I couldn’t breath or move or even form a thought. The first thing I remembering thinking is this. What if we had not stopped him, had not realized he was gone, had waiting a few more minutes… we would have been beckoned by the sierens. Not saying goodbye, but parting with a good friend, forced to learn a hard lesson no one should ever have to learn. Bidding goodbye to a best friend and learning to live on without him. .

Unfortunately I, as fate have it, learned this lesson anyway. Thankfully this friend lives on, just at a distance. But the lesson was learned 2 days before my high school graduation, a time only excitement should be filling my body…

Two days before my high school graduation, I was spending intimate time with my classmates, sharing memories and future plans. An administrator called us into the auditorium, the place I sat that day, I will never forget.

The principal took his time walking to the front of the room by the D.A.R.E. officer, a good friend of mine, just to walk back to the wall of guidance counselors, vice principals, among other administratives. I guess at this I should have guessed, but I was too focused at the fun I should be having and how he was wasting it. At his final walk to the front and turn to face us, he still paused, regretting to share this news, it almost seemed like he believed if he wait long enough, he would not have to say it. “This morning one of your classmates passed away..” complete silence. I was stuck in a daze, no this is a simple trick he is playing, “ It was Hannah Wathen…” My body frozen in shock, he stands only a little while before dropping his head and b-lining to the back. Once again my world stopped, only this time it took longer to start back up.

I don’t know how long passed before a guidance counselor stepped forward and mention the people who were there for talk and how we could stay as long as we want. I came half to, just enough to look around and see who exactly believed this crude joke. I caught view of a boy, I’ve known him for years and we had several conversation. He looked all hunched over, and his face like a rotten apple, before I had time to take in the scene completely, a terrible sound came from his throat. A sob, a loud and dry, mournful sob. It was the first sound that came from the crowd, my class of 250 plus students.

The vision become blurred and my whole world started to crumble, Hannah, I know this girl. We use to be good friend in elementary school. We would have class together, walk the halls, sit in the lunchroom and have long talks. I remember puking right in front of her once. Though we grew apart in middle school until she reminded me of this memory when we hung out again freshmen year. We spent hours on a bus and even more on the track and field. She was on of the first few who gave me my nick name. We once again grew apart when she quit doing stats. I had a class with this year, we sit just 15 feet apart. I remember our last conversation, how I wish I could change it.

The whole day was sort of a blur, I guess the news didn’t really hit, not when the sobs continued or got louder, not when I walked the halls the get some air, not even when seeing a friend getting the news for the first time after I already knew. No… the news that I had lost an old friend did not set in until my parents made me say the words out loud, that was the first time I lost it.

Somehow we got through that afternoon, my friends and I. We someone scraped up the courage to drive home or a friends house, somehow it was not a time to be alone.

Still the news was worsened, I had settled on the fact that her death was an accident, she was only 18 after all. My parents dragged me home to share the further dreaded news to me alone. The worst thing they could have probably done. We were standing in the kitchen when I finally made them speak. “Do you know how she died?” they asked, I thought it strange of a question to ask. “Well, we assume a car accident, someone said they heard the sirens on the way to the picnic..” There was a bit of silence as I watched my parents’ heart break by the looks on their faces. “Her mom found her in her room this morning, hanging from the ceiling.” There was nothing I could do, I don’t know how much time passed before I turned and walked straight to my room. I shut the door and sat at my desk just staring at the desk. My parents did not entire or at least not for several hours, actually I have no idea how much time passed. My mom proceed to ask me if I was okay or if food was something I might want. I remember thinking no and meaning to shake my head, but looking back I don’t think I moved.

I remember seeing my friend the next day, the silence we sat in, we never sat in silence, but on this day we did.

That Saturday was her funeral and me and my friends went. My boyfriend at my side, the only time we held hands in public, the only time we needed each other to lean on because the pain and struggle of the last few days had really taken it’s toll on us. I remember standing in line for the visitation, watching the slide show of her pictures showing over and over again. The same smiling face over and over again, only with different backgrounds. I started to wonder how many smiles I just witnessed were fake. This one picture is stuck in my mind, I can still see it in the film of my mind. She was on a mission trip in some third world country, holding a baby. Just a child and she was smiling, somehow I knew this one was not faked. A question formed in my head that still gets me to this day. How can someone touch lives of some many, especially children and think life just isn’t worth it?

Somehow, months had passed and I had falling into my own depression. I was faking my way through everything, even teaching my class full of 4 year old children. I began to wonder about my own life, the D.A.R.E. officer, my good friend, checked in on me, his daughter was in my classes. That and music got me through. Still though my depression deepened with the lonely summers months and every night that passed. I began to plan a death, but mine would look like an accident. Something got me through, I think it was listening to Ed Sheeran sing, and all his beautiful sadness. It was the night before my class started up the one with the D.A.R.E. officer's daughter, the one that was 4 and loved me to pieces. I remember thinking, this is my last night because I can’t let my class have the announcement to close to the one I had just 15 months before. “It’s alright to die, 'Cause death’s the only thing you haven’t tried, But just for tonight hold on” (Even My Dad Does Sometimes-Ed Sheeran). I listen to these lyrics on repeat for hours that night, making my face raw with deep sadness. By the time I was just about asleep with pure exhaustion, I whispered with all that I had left, “Okay Ed...just one more night, for you” and drifted away.

The next morning I woke up like the rest, and faked my way through my college classes. I made it to my 4 year old class that I was to teach, and I taught it. By the end of the night, I was baffled at the amount of exhaustion, I did not know I had energy left to spend. I got home that night and sat in darkness. “Okay Ed, I did my one more night… Tonight I am ready to go”

I pictured my life in absents when I saw the D.A.R.E. officer’s daughter, her long hair and not so innocent eyes looking up at me, all in the film with in my mind. She would ask to wear my bracelet and promised to give it back at the end of the night. My mind flooding with the film of the times I spent with her, and the times I spent with so many others, the children I had impacted. I grudgingly decided to make it a few more nights, trying to find it in my heart to leave the children behind. However, this is precisely what I could not do, these poor children did not need to go through the announcement that I had somehow lived through. Though I am not naive enough to think that I can stop it, because in my past I see how my parents tried and failed so many times. At least this one I could control, they would not lose me now and have to handle the hardest blow. I would leave them as innocent as I could for as long as fate would allow it. So the question remains in my mind, every time the film fills my mind;Hannah, old friend, with a baby in her arms, mid laugh caught on photo film, what of the children you left behind? What of your friends, sisters, parents, and nieces and nephews you left behind? Family barely old enough to remember the joys that you provided?