It's not the same without him here. I don't think it will ever be. I lost the closest person in my life. He was always there for me when I needed him. He was like my life support, but he was ripped away and now I have nothing.  He's just a memory that's slowly fading away for everyone else, but I can't seem to get over the fact that he's gone. It almost feels like I'm beginning to miss him more and more everyday. 

I often wonder if there's a way I could see him again. Obviously ghosts don't exist, and I can't bring him back to life, so those aren't options for me. However, I often find myself staring in the little white cabinet above the bathroom sink. The beautiful assortment of various pill bottles there always interests me. There's so many to choose from, and I tend to take up long periods of times wondering which pills could help me accomplish death the easiest. 

Unfortunately, none of the pills actually belong to me, for they're in my parents possession So, I have to be careful when I go through them, because sometimes they almost catch me looking through them, but I always manage to close the door the the cabinet before they arrive in the bathroom doorway to see what I'm up to. 

When I'm not at home fantasizing about death, I'm in hell, also known to many as high school. I hate it there, but not because of the classes, homework, and exams, but because of the students. I swear, from the minute I walk through the front doors, I'm instantly being stared at weirdly. They all know about the death of one of their fellow classmates, and how I was hit the hardest by it. I'm not quite sure if they're trying to show sympathy towards me due to that, but if they are, they certainly aren't very good at it. Not that I care though-as long as they aren't trying to talk to me. 

Honestly, I don't know why I'm still going to school at this point. I don't really try anymore, so as a result, my grades are quickly falling. My parents noticed this, and they constantly try to encourage me to do better. I always promise them I will, but I don't mean it. I just don't see a point in trying anymore when I'm most likely not going to be around for much longer. Grades are just a bunch of letters anyways. 

The best part of my day (well, the only good part about my day) is when I walk home from school. I have to walk, because I don't own car, but I actually enjoy it. I take a path through the woods to get home. It's a strange path too- it's absolutely still there. It's somewhat ironic, because the woods usually tend to be full of life, and this one definitely isn't. But that's why I love it there. I get to be all by myself, and just think about whatever I want without being interrupted. 

At home, my parents always try to greet my overly enthusiastically. I don't ever say anything back to them. It's not that I don't love them, it's just that they're really annoying now. They always act like everything is okay and like nothing ever happened in a desperate attempt to try to make me feel better. They always have these damn fake smiles on. It had only been couple of weeks since the funeral. I doubt they had even gotten over it yet. 

As much as I hate to admit it, I'm incredible lonely now. Without my best friend around anymore,  I almost feel as if a piece of me is missing. I don't really have anyone my age to talk to either, and not just because of my best friend's death, but also because the death of all of my other friendships. When I first started to become depressed, I shut out a lot of my friends. I didn't want to talk to anyone, and I didn't believe that anymore could truly help me with what I was going through. So, my friends gave up on me, and now they just blend in with the other staring kids at school. 

On Friday morning, I slowly rolled out of bed and got dressed in my usual black skinny jeans and black t-shirt look. I ran downstairs and out the door to school without any breakfast. I could feel my mom's sad eyes from the window watch me as a walked down the driveway. I didn't look back at her.

I took my usual path through the woods as the sun began to rise through the trees. I gazed at the blue sky as it turned into vivid pink and orange shades. I used to really enjoy sunrises. I probably would've wanted to paint this one if you had asked me months ago. I don't like to paint anymore though. I don't have the motivation to. 

While continuing to walk down the path, I suddenly heard something rustle within the trees. It kind of startled me, due to the fact that there was an actually noise in the woods and instead of the usual silence. I looked up trying to decipher what the hell I was hearing. Maybe it was an actual bird, or maybe a squirrel, or possibly a demon...

I didn't get to look very long though, because all of a sudden a person fell out of the tree above me, screaming. I frantically stepped back, trying not to get crushed by them in the split second that they were falling. Luckily for me, the person landed directly in front of me rather than on top of me. 

There was a loud thump as the person's body collided with the Earth. I cringed at the sound- it didn't sound too comfortable. After a few seconds of silence, I nervously stepped closer, trying to figure out whether or not this person was still alive. I cautiously approached and leaned over them. It was a guy, and thankfully, he was still breathing, but his eyes were closed. Hopefully he just passed out or something...

Taking a closer look, I noticed that he was actually quite an attractive guy. He looked pretty small, but I assumed that he was a teenager judging by his face. He was kind of pale, with a black faux hawk and platinum sides. It was an interesting look to say the least, but it suited him. I also observed that he had a couple of piercings: a lip ring, earrings, and a nose ring. He also had a couple of tattoos on his neck and arms, from what I could tell. He dressed the same as me, with black jeans and a dark t-shirt. 

After staring him up and down for a good couple of minutes, I thought about how I should wake this poor guy up. Spotting a large stick on the path, I picked it up and poked the unconscious guy with it until he started to stir a bit. I threw the stick away and watched as the guy slowely opened his big hazel eyes that were surrounded by thick, black eyeliner. 

He blinked a couple of times as if he was trying to process what was happening before he finally said something, "Fuck, who knew falling out of a tree would hurt so much".