Everyone knows about murderers, their on T.V., magazines, and horror films. Most times when people are asked to picture one, they think of Chuckey, Freddy Kregur, or maybe that guy on Cops last night. I don’t. I picture Grace, telling her parents, teachers, and friends her horrible secret. Telling them she needed help. They didn’t listen. Sometimes the ignorant ones are the real killers. Thanks to them, I had to slowly watch my best friend die.

“Come, on Grace.” I say as I walk down the stairs of our High School. Grace is under her usual hiding space, under the stairs, drawing.

“No” She answers as if I had asked her a question, which I hadn’t, “I’m not going to lunch and have the girls nag me and yell at me.”

I sighed. What could I do? She had a point. The girls called her “Drama Queen”, “Faker”, and worst of all “Wanna be anorexic”. They were so cruel. I knew the truth. Grace was losing weight, and she wasn’t faking her eating disorder. She wasn’t underweight yet, so that’s why they didn’t believe her.

“Did you tell your mom?” I asked, as I sat next to her.

“Yeah”, she said holding back tears, “She told me I was just a spoiled brat looking for attention!”

I groaned and Grace made a noise that sounded like a squeak or choke, then I put my arms around her and she buried her head in me and sobbed until the bell rang.

When I look back now, I wished I could go back and fix this, change everything. I was afraid, afraid of my friend, getting angry. As the weeks went on, she got sicker and sicker. She told me she had stopped taking her Islam, she’s diabetic, and ate practically nothing now. Her clothes were falling off, and she looked tired all the time. When your life changes forever, you remember every detail of that day. I remember that day like it was yesterday.

It was a normal day. I forgot to do my math homework, gossiped during library, took a history test, and then went to gym. Grace had it too. We tried to get to the bathroom first, and change before everyone else came in. But when we got there, it was just our luck that Alexis was there. Alexis, popular, mean, and beautiful. She took one look at Grace and started whispering to her “crew” and any other girl that would listen. I pretty much found out in gym what they were talking about, for through the whole class they called Grace “disgusting”, and “Concentration Camp Girl”. Grace ignored them, and for that I’m proud of her.

At lunch I went to her usual spot and my blood went cold. Grace was on the floor, out cold. I ran as fast as I could and got my math teacher, and the nurse. The nurse said she was in diabetic shock, and that it was too late. I held her until Grace’s mom came. I couldn’t stand to look at her with her fake sorrow. She didn’t care about Grace, she was never home, and when she was she was drunk and would hit Grace. She killed Grace.

Today I received a box that was found with Grace’s possessions. In it was a letter, where she told me I was the only real family she ever knew. She also gave me a locket that her dad gave her, years before she was born and before that awful car crash that killed him. With that was an unfinished picture with me and her holding hands. She was only halfway done. I sighed, she had such a bright future, and she was a brilliant artist. But then I looked at the picture and burst into tears because that was how Grace used to look. I hope that’s how she’ll look when I meet her in heaven. I want her to be happy there.