Author’s Note: This is NOT my usual writing style. Please keep that in mind. I wrote this story, while thinking heavily about past experiences with a friend. Remember that it’s not ALL truth, just bits and pieces. Thanks for taking the time to read it and let me know what you think. I’m really interested in knowing your thoughts on this one. --Julie

Julie E. Miller

2002

We have friends in our lives that have problems. Those problems may be small, or they can be large. It doesn’t matter the size of the problems or the severity, but the fact that no matter what happens, we’re willing to help them through these problems. We’ll do anything we can to make sure they’re fine. True friendship withstands the trials and tribulations of these problems and they are only part of the machine that makes it run.

In my sixteen years of life, I’ve realized that my friendships have been true for the most part. Sure, I’ve had problems with people and bumps, but for the most part, my friends and I were solid. We didn’t fight often and we were always up to something that builds our bond. One friendship of mine has stuck out quite a bit though. It’s the first friendship I ever had with a boy, and a very confusing one at that.

I met Cole when I entered the fifth grade. We had the same base homeroom and shared every class together. In my town, when we get to the fifth grade, everyone pools into one large middle school and we continue in this group until we graduate eight years later. Anyways, Cole was an interesting boy. He had brown hair and was fairly tall for his age. His parents had split up and he split time with both his father and his mother, equally.

Cole and I were strictly friends, which was how I actually liked it. Sure there was that year I had the crush on him, but I got over it rather quickly and since then, we’ve been nothing but solid for the most part. He’s the most honest person I’ve ever met. If something’s wrong, more than likely he’ll tell you and whatever he’s thinking, he’ll share.

Throughout the years, I’ve watched him grow and something began to stick out…Cole wasn’t happy with himself whatsoever. He hated himself more than he’d admit and his depression was one that scared the living hell out of me. At first it wasn’t much, just a simple, "I’m an idiot," or, "I’m so retarded." You know, simple stupid stuff that you get from a friend. I’ve even caught myself saying that on a regular basis quite a few times a day.

Things began to steadily go though, and soon it was turning into a full out, "I hate myself. I want to die." He’d gone from the totally happy Cole I’d known, to this depressed body, just stumbling around life, waiting for even more shit to hit him in the face. It wasn’t the Cole I knew and I was scared beyond belief.

It was one nite a few weeks later and I’d been talking to Cole online. It had started out normal, then turned into a full-fledged fight between us. "I don’t need your shit," he told me.

"You think you’re the only one with problems?" I had asked. "You don’t even know what problems are!" Till in the end he apologized.

But one thing he said stuck out in my mind like a needle pricking a smooth, clean finger: "I’d be content learning how to tie a noose and hanging myself."

I’m not kidding. He honestly said that to me. That’s when I started to get worried. These things went on for a week or two more, till it was just inexcusable. Cole would still come to school everyday, but everyday he seemed less and less attached. He’d sleep in class, he wouldn’t participate, he wouldn’t talk to me. Cole had always been an amazing person in my eyes and to see this happening was just killing me too. It was like the spark that had once kept him going had fallen to a solemn ash and gone out completely.

I was scared.

I was worried he was going to do something to himself, but just couldn’t ever seem to do anything about it. It’s not like we hung out all that often. Hell, we didn’t even call one another on the phone.

I was alone one nite, working on some chemistry homework when the phone rang. Thinking nothing of it, I picked it up. "It’s me," I said simply, trying to concentrate on the equation in front of me.

There was nothing on that other line. I could hear someone’s jagged breaths. I could hear someone sobbing. But they didn’t speak.

"Look, I’m here. Who is this? Are you okay?"

Nothing.

I think I secretly knew in my heart who it was and what was wrong, but I just didn’t want to will it to be true. "Cole?" I whispered. "Is that you?" I could just picture him nodding and then he finally spoke.

"I’m getting ready to do it," he whispered. He heaved another sob and I felt tears rush forth from my eyes.

"Getting ready to do what?" I asked, squeezing them shut slowly, a few lone tears sliding down my cheeks.

"I’ve got the barrel to my forehead. I can’t decide if that’s where I want to do it or not. I can’t decide if I want the bullet in my head where these thoughts are coming from or in my heart, where they’re being controlled."

I bit my lip. "Listen to me Cole, don’t do it," I said as calmly as I could. "Don’t hurt yourself."

"I think it would go faster through the brain, but the heart wouldn’t be so bad. It would sting, but hell, it’s gonna sting where ever it is I decide to pull the bullet through."

"Cole," I tried again.

"Listen, you’ve been an amazing friend to me," he said. "I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me. I love you like a best friend and I just thought you should know. None of this is your fault, it’s mine…I…"

"God damn you Cole!" I shouted. "If you fucking kill yourself, I’ll bring you back alive and rip your fucking balls off!" Okay, maybe not what I should be saying. I should be calm and collected, but…things were taking over me.

"Don’t blame yourself," he repeated. "Things are going to be easier this way. Things will be better off, for you, for me, for my family…"

"It’s only going to make things worse!" I exclaimed.

"Please, calm down. I don’t want our last conversation to end on a bad note."

I didn’t know what to do. They don’t teach you these things in high school. No, they teach you about the first people in our country, they teach you about chemicals, they teach you the fucking Pythagorean Theorem, but they don’t teach you what to do when your best friend calls you on the phone with a gun in his head, ready to end his life.

"Cole, I love you," I whispered. "If you do this, I don’t know what I’m going to do."

"Go on living your life."

"But…"

The phone line went dead. Great. Just great.

I couldn’t sit here, knowing that I did nothing when my best friend was ready to kill himself. I stood up, ran from the house, despite calls from my mother and began heading for Cole’s house. He lived a good way’s away. I ran though, not stopping for anything. My main focus was making it there in time. My focus was on saving my friend’s life.

When I reached his home, I noticed the car missing from the driveway. He was by himself. The front door was open and I found him in the living room, in a dazed state, gun to his forehead, staring at the ceiling.

"Cole," I whispered, not sure if he’d hear me or not.

Cole didn’t look at me, the grip on the gun tightened.

"Cole," I repeated, a bit louder.

The grip continued to grow.

"Cole, look at me," I said in the most normal voice I had. I was fighting to keep my sobs in. He wouldn’t look at me. His eyes were focused on the ceiling. "Cole, if I ever meant anything to you, look at me now, please."

Cole squeezed his eyes together slowly. I felt a lone tear slide down my face.

Then he opened his eyes.

He looked at me slowly, his brown eyes meeting my gray ones. "I love you," I said simply. "If you don’t want to live for yourself, live for me. Live for your family."

Silence passed between us and the tension was so thick, you could cut the air with a knife. I held my breath. I was praying to God for a miracle. Let this boy see what he was worth…let him see what he meant to me.

"Think about your mom, Cole…about your sisters and your father. What will they think?"

"They’ll get over it. I’m nothing but a failure to them anyway."

"Don’t say that," I said quietly. "They love you. They’d go to hell and back to help you out if that’s what it took."

"I’m alone in this world."

I shook my head. "If they fail you, then you’ve always got me. Don’t fail me now Cole. I need you. I need you to help me get through each passing day."

More silence. His eyes met mine once again and I tried to hold his to mine as long as possible. I saw pain etched in them. Pain, and fear, and hopelessness.

"I can help you. I want to help you," I whispered. "Let me help you."

The grip on the gun changed again.

But this time it was different.

The gun fell from Cole’s hand in slow motion. It hadn’t been set off. I watched the slick barrel slide from his hand and tumble towards the ground in a slow spiral. He’d decided to drop it. He’d decided to live.

I felt tears spring from my eyes. Cole’s body crumpled as he began to sob. I went forth to him and heard the gun clatter to the ground somewhere in the background as I took my best friend up in my arms.

"Thank you," I whispered. "But why’d you do it?"

"I changed my mind," he sobbed. "I’m so sorry."

Tribulations and trials pass us by every day and one thing seems to stay the same: the bond we have to these people. You know you’ll never let your friends down and you know they’ll always be there for you. Friendship isn’t about WHO your friends are, but what they mean to you.

And in the end, that’s all that matters.

October 2, 2002, Julie E. Miller