With my head hung low I spoke softly,

“I'm worried about you.”

When I looked up, her gaze was fixed on the ground, not in shame nor in embarrassment, but in realization that her habits would be her demise if she kept on like this.

“I care about you too much to see you like this. I just hate it.”


No reply.


There was a long silence before I spoke again.

“I already lost one of my sisters, and I’ll be damned before I lose you.”

Then quietly she spoke.
“I know.”

I held my head in agony, and in slight anger. It really did pain me to see my closest friend like this. It was like I was living an episode of “Intervention”. It was even worse to think that I’m the cause of her downward spiral. I wouldn't know what to do if she died, I wouldn't be able to face myself again.

I've come to the understanding that I wasn't as close to her as some were, but it doesn't change the fact that she was one of my closest friends. It doesn't change that she’s like family to me. I’m still little brother and I'm still worried about her.

I can’t help but think of Johnny Cash’s version of ‘Hurt’, the song loops in my head and it doesn't help that it matches both the weather, and the mood of the situation.
Gloomy clouds and a slight drizzle, it seems like everything is just dark and freakin’ depressing.
So much for fall, just perfect.

“You know I would do anything to see you happy, as long as it was within reason. So far you were the only exception. Maybe I'm just exaggerating, but I don’t want to have to bury you at this age.” I said with the last drop of humanity left in my body. I heard thunder, then silence.

“I know.” She finally said. I don’t know if she was getting fed up with me or not.


“I’m sorry, I just needed to talk about this with someone, whether or not it was with you or not. I needed to get it off my chest.” I finally said.

She said nothing.

I looked at the time on my phone.

“1AM, Christ I need to leave, I’ll talk to you later” Silence, then I continued.
“If you’re up for it that is.”

I looked up, and I saw her tears. She said nothing. She simply stood up, and walked away.
Obviously upset.

I did nothing to stop her. I let her walk away. This is when “Hurt” played again.
I hung my head in agony.

Later that day, I got a call at 12:24 that night.


She overdosed on painkillers.
She died.


What I would do to have her back, the hell's I would walk though.
It won’t do a damn thing. She’s gone now. And all I can do now is mourn her loss.