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BillyIt was late November. The leaves (what was left of them) were a multitude of colors, reds, oranges

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Deanna Rubenstein LENG 111 September 29, 2005 Billy It was late November. The leaves (what was left of them) were a multitude of colors, reds, oranges, and yellows. The air was cool, but not as bad as what was to come. Pittsburgh usually has a good autumn but a horrible winter. It was the day before Thanksgiving. I was sitting in Trigonometry counting down the minutes until the school day would be over. I still had around four or five hours. It was only the beginning of the day, but my excitement was growing. Of course I was excited. We were going to have extra days off from school. What more can a girl want? So there I was in Trig doing nothing because my teacher did not make us do anything the day before a break. He was a pretty cool guy! My friend Lauren was looking at the pictures in my wallet. She looks up at me with this weird look in her eyes. She pointed at my friend Billy's picture and said to me, "Isn't this Billy Bergman?" ...read more.


It was if we didn't lose any time at all. We tried the dating thing, but we decided that being friends was better for us. We would go to the mall just so we could eat at the Japanese place. Their chicken teriyaki was to die for. The taste was so amazing. It was never too hot, and it had just the right amount of flavor. Our friendship was perfect, for a while. We got into an argument right the start of November. The funny thing is I don't even remember what the argument was about. We didn't talk to each other for a week. He called me but neither of us apologized. I only wish I had. Fast forward a week. The whole school day I was wondering about what Lauren said to me. I kept wondering, "Is Billy really dead?" I could not concentrate on anything else. It was if my mind had erased everything except that thought. Sixth period rolled up, and it was time for Psychology. ...read more.


Maybe if I would have, I could have at least gone to the funeral. I just couldn't believe that Billy, my best friend, was dead. The next day was Thanksgiving. I was not very thankful, to say the least. I felt like I could have prevented Billy's death. If I would have known he was on drugs, I would have gotten him some help. All throughout the day, my mind was on Billy. How could my family and I be celebrating when his parents were grieving for their son? I kept imagining his parents sitting in their picture perfect house hurting and crying. Surly, their tears were much deeper than my own. Billy passed away nearly one year ago, and the pain has yet to go away. All I think about is, "Why didn't I say I'm sorry? Why was I so immature to hold a grudge with my best friend?" His death has left a great impact on my life, and he will never be forgotten. Even when I am a hundred and two, I will still remember him and still wish I would have said that I was sorry. ...read more.

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