I never thought I would ever be so happy to see my mother. I ran out of that taxi and we embraced. The last time I had taken a taxi home, my mother was angry. But this time, both of us were overjoyed at each other's presence. To think that we had gone through so much for that moment. I was certain that I could feel my father watching over us, and I think he was smiling at us.

I had not seen my mother in so long, and I was surprised that a year could make such a difference in her looks. She had a lot more gray in her hair, and she looked tired. I must have looked a lot different, too, but I hadn't looked in a mirror for a long time. To my surprise, my room had not changed at all. Most of my things were right where I left them.

"I did dust it, occasionally," my mother said.

I was only 18. I decided to go back to school, and I graduated. My mother was so proud, and I'm sure my father was proud, too, wherever he was in the sky. I got into college, and left home, but stayed in touch with Mother. I stayed in touch with Trent, too, and we remained good friends.

Sometimes I go back to that park that Donovan and I used to take morning strolls in, and I wondered what would have happened if Donovan never discovered drugs. He was a good person, really, and I missed him. Some people might say that I should "hate" him for what he's "done" to my life. Donovan didn't do any harm to my life. Sure, maybe he influenced me and subtracted some amount of years from my overall lifespan, but it was my fault that this is the way it turned out, anyway. I ran my life by his rules and I worshipped him. Why was I so obsessed? Why didn't I, instead of taking drugs from Donovan, take them away from him? If I were a good friend, I would have done just that. But I was a victim, too. My innocent eyes didn't know what to do with atrocities. Instead of banishing it from my life, I let it overthrow me. By doing so, it overthrew Donovan, too, because I didn't stop it. The last few years of Donovan's life were hardly memorable. He was always, always tired and no longer the fun Donovan that I once knew. Had I even known that happy, healthy boy for even a year, before he started to die inside? He was probably already dead inside before that car hit him. I wasn't happy in the apartment, but I thought I was, because I wasn't myself.

However I hate to admit it, perhaps it was a good thing that Donovan left us that day. I'm not saying it was a good thing that he died, because many people miss him, but by doing so, it made me give up on drugs. And he killed two birds with one stone, since Trent had also followed me.

So maybe I didn't get the best start in the real world. But I will shape it, I swear, and I'll succeed in my career, for Donovan, for the sake of saving other drug victims. Currently, I work as a surgeon in a local hospital, at the age of 25. My mother lives nearby and is very proud of me. She has recently remarried to a man named Sean, and, also recently, Trent Bryson proposed to me, and I said "yes". We will be married in the fall, my favorite season of the year. Someday soon, we'll visit Donovan Walker's grave together and remember those wild days of youth that the three of us once shared.