To live again

A loss of a friend is tragic indeed. We build memories, we go through good times and bad, we bond and yet we somehow free ourselves of those bonds like they didn't even exist in the first place.

I'm on my back, lying on the roof as we've done so many times to look at the stars. You're telling me about your day and I'm listening carefully because I know it's been rough for you. I hold your hand as your voice breaks, you're on the brink of tears. 

I've known you for so long and I've rarely seen you cry. 

My heart reaches out for you but you shut me out again as you quickly pull yourself together and change the topic. Why are you so afraid, my friend? Afraid of letting me help you? You've been there for me all along and yet, you don't want to lean on my shoulder the way I've rested my head on yours so many times.

I think about this a lot. As we go back inside and drift off to sleep, I still think about it.

The next morning has arrived and I wake up to you gone. It's a Sunday morning, you're usually around. 

I don't understand but I know we're growing further apart since the day you brought home your needles and powders I can't even name. 

I've watched you grow frail, your eyes sink deeper. That sparkling joy that was so characteristic of you now exists no more. 

You don't come to school anymore so I keep bringing you your homework. Even now, I'm standing here as your mother sits, distraught on the kitchen floor, and there's nothing I could say or do to make her feel better.

I'm tired of worrying and you never say a word. As we sit across from each other, you look at me with almost contempt.  

I sense that you need to be alone so I get up and leave without saying much.

Days, weeks and months roll by in this fashion.

You dropped out of school so I no longer come by to drop off your homework.

I don't spend as much time with you anymore because you clearly don't want me there.

I've been making new friends now, working on new things together and I've got very little time. Occasionally, I still stare at your door when I pass it, hoping you'd be running down your porch right at me one day and hug me, the way we used to every morning. 

The day has come when I decide to put my foot down and save you from yourself.

Not today, my friend. Today, you will be torn away from your ways, your drugs, your pain. I'll make sure of it.

I'm at your door already, a positive smile on my face because I know that even if it means physically tying you down so that you never meet those nasty creatures who feed you your poison, you will be saved.

You will be my best friend again. You will finally live your life.

You will finally be set free!

I've still got the spare key you gave me. I step into the house.

Where is everybody? 

I'm in your room, but all I see are the remnants of a struggle of sorts...

I'm running back down the stairs and out the door. 

The car is still in the garage.

No sound.

I sit and wait till the evening on your porch until your mother arrives.

And she does.

And from the look on her face, I know.

I couldn't save you from yourself but you'd managed to set yourself free.

These feelings that flood me, I can't comprehend them.

But... it's a Sunday morning.

You're usually around...

Author's Note

It's not very well-written, I know. But, this is loosely based off a thing that happened in my life and I wanted to put it down in words.
I've always had an issue with tenses so I tried something different.
Please do let me know how I may improve.
Thanks!