User:GunnerKeith16

Greg hated life, and as his best friend though I tried to change that as much as possible. Time after time again I talked him out of things that could damage other’s lives. I stayed up late nights for him, fell behind in school because I was tired, and even lost a lot of friends because I was with him. Why did everyone see him as a loser or a loner? He had friends. He had family. People cared.

I remember that dreadful night when all this got really extreme. You know how as a teenager people just blame your hormones and say it’ll get better? Well for some it doesn’t. I guess Greg was one of those people. Anyways, the day was May 7th, 2013. I was lying in bed listening to music attempting to sleep. Of course no one cared to bother me until then so I got stuck on Facebook. Suddenly Greg’s face popped up. I wondered what he wanted. I clicked on his name and read his message.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ruining your life and becoming such a fuck-up. I don’t mean to do anything malicious, I just want friends. I care that you’ve stayed but if you really want to go off I would understand.”

I was completely dumbfounded. I stayed up that night telling him how much I cared and that I wasn’t going. I struggled but succeeded.

Time flew by except on nights he needed me, which was about three times a week. We really got to know each other and every feeling we had for everything. So when he committed suicide it destroyed me. It destroyed me because I tried so damn hard to save him from drowning. I failed. I failed my own best friend and that made me feel like shit. Depression is a contagious thing. Well this is half the story. A few weeks after he died I felt more awful than I had ever felt. I became hateful and spiteful towards everything. Now school wasn't a matter of being tired, it was a matter of not giving a fuck. I stop caring. No one noticed but that was okay because I didn't need anyone.

Shit went to shit and my parents even stopped trying. I thought about suicide multiple times but always found a reason not to. I didn't want to destroy my parent’s life like Greg destroyed mine. I hated him for it. I don't know why the fuck I wasted all that time just to get thrown aside. That doesn't matter. What does matter is the shit that occurs on bad days. I literally can feel Greg’s presence on these days as they come and go. These are my darkest day and it makes no sense to me. I don’t get it. My best friend is with my on my worst days. So a few weeks ago I started looking more into suicide stories and how to react. Yeah I understand mourning is important but what the hell do you do. How do you carry on? I kept thinking to myself how I’d ever get through this. I felt like I’d never be happy. Is this Hell?

So here we are today with weird shit happening the time. Is it me? Why can’t I control myself? Why do I ask so many questions? Months after Greg’s suicide and I feel like death. Why couldn’t I just pull through? I killed Gunner. I did. I ruined his fucking life and now he feels my pain. I am Hell. He’s no longer Gunner. I am Greg.