A/N: I wrote this about a year ago when my best friend was killed. Please R/R.

The wind whips across this place,

It is a cold day.

I stand alone atop a hill,

Taking in all the beauty.

The morning dew sparkles in the sun,

Flowers growing all around.

A tear slips down my cheek,

Then many more follow.

This was my best friend's favorite place.

She was killed a week ago,

By a drunk driver.

I am angry at the world,

She was only 17.

She could have gone so far,

But her life was cut short.

I am left with one question,

Why?