STARS

THREE: THE DAY HE DIED... ~

3.30pm, 16/05/2018
London, King’s Crescent
1 YEAR AGO

I knocked on his door. Over and over. My bestest friend, the person who was always there for me. He was an orphan like me, living illegally with a bungalow under his dead dad’s name. It was a small house, but manageable for him alone. I rang the doorbell, knowing that it doesn’t work, and then started smashing the door. He probably wasn’t home yet, but he said he will be. I went on my phone to go and call him and noticed he was online.

When someone sees my message, it shows a blue double tick. And that was the case. But he wasn’t showing the least reaction.
I climbed in from the back window, the bungalow was small, so it wasn’t too difficult. I reached the toilet window and climbed in. His cologne had enveloped the entire atmosphere. I knew the bungalow off by heart, we used to play here since the age of 6, my parents and his were also very great friends. But now they are all dead. Murdered when we were 14. They would walk me to his house and pick me up at 8pm; we had the time of our lives, we were the bestest of friends.
I smiled and walked into his bedroom. He wasn’t there. I sighed.
I walked towards the kitchen. He was sat down by the dining table, his head down on the table and his arms slumped by his side. Still in his school uniform. I couldn’t see his full face, but I noticed his phone.
It was turned on, next to him, it was on my messages. I saw my messages that I sent a few minutes ago there, it explained why he saw my messages but didn’t reply.

‘Wake up!’ I muttered, ‘what time did you play till last night? You should really lose this useless addiction of yours of playing this much, for god’s sake.’
I lifted his head up from the kitchen table that was leaning slightly to the wall. His face paler than a ghost, his eyes closed, it was as if he had no melanin left. Pills. 3 bottles of pills. A few scattered around on the kitchen table. A glass of nearly empty water. My heart stopped for a second.
What an opportunity…
No reply.
I slowly placed my finger under his nose. He was breathing. A shiver was sent down my body.
As I went to shake and wake him up a message popped on his phone, nor mine, nor anyone’s I once knew. A girl. A girl with the nickname ‘sweetie’ and a heart, on his phone. My heart stopped once again, but not because of worry, but greed…
I bent down to the drawer under the kitchen sink and grabbed a plastic bag. Without even thinking, instinctively, I wrapped it around his head. He was unconscious, he didn’t move. His head went loose.

My mouth went dry, I took a step back. My heart pounded louder than a drum: I couldn’t bring myself to cry, I felt this many times before. It was normal now. The silence was too loud.
He had left me first, he abandoned me first, just like anyone that I once knew.
~