Kevin had been a very close friend to me for nearly 14 years. We grew up going to summer camp together, we played little league together, we played basketball together, we had birthday parties, we went to each others houses, we were best friends.
In the summer of 2009, we had just graduated high school, and we were on top of the world. We were partying everyday, mostly just sticking to our cheap friend "Keystone", but Kevin started experimenting with other drugs. Once I found out what he was doing, I told him I would no longer hang out with him if he continued to do those drugs. He got so addicted to Xanax, we were no longer friends. Now he had new friends. They were bad influences, they were the kids I always stayed away from. They got him into marijuana, ecstasy, and Xanax.
One Friday night, there was a huge party at one of our friends house. Everybody was there. There was beer, there was drugs, there was sex. The party had everything. Around 1a.m., me and a girl I picked up got out of there because it was getting to crazy, and I knew the cops were going to be called. We were only 18 years old. So I went to another friends apartment, played beer-pong there with my girl and my friends. I had sex with her in my car that night because my friend wouldn't let me use his couch or bed. In other words, it was a great night. What could go wrong?
Next thing I know, it's early Saturday morning around 8:00 a.m., and my phone won't stop ringing. I look at my phone and I have 20 missed calls, and 42 new text messages. Most of the texts were like "What happend to Kevin?". A lot of people still thought we were friends. Then all of a sudden I discover the worst possible thing; Kevin is dead.
Kevin overdosed on Xanax, fell asleep, and never woke up. His "new friends", supplied him with 5mg Xaxox pills, which he downed. I don't even want to know how many. His new friends tried to wake him up that morning but he never did.
I can't stop feeling guilty about his death. I was his best friend for a majority of our lives. Instead of pushing him away for what he was doing, I should of done more to try to help him. But I kept thinking he would learn somehow or another; I just never thought that way would be death.
I'll always remember Kevin as a happy kid, who's funny as heck. He was intelligent when he applied himself, he was the nicest guy around. Now it's 2011, I'm 20 years old, and I still miss the kid.
Kevin, I miss you buddy, and I'll meet you up there someday. I'm sorry I didn't do more to help you.
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