If Only I Didn't Leave
I never meant to leave him. Although, I was done with the torture of our classmates. Each day we would be called the gay couple and made fun of for it. We weren't a couple, nor were we gay. We, just like everyone else, were looking for that one best friend to stay with them until death. However, that didn't happen to come true. When he decided to take his own life, I wasn't there to stop him. I couldn't stop him. He took his own life, without giving me the ability to stop him from doing so. He was my best friend, and he could've done anything in his life, but our classmates felt like it was a necessity to put us lower than them. Why? Just so that they could feel good about themselves for a minute or two? There are terrible people in this world and not a single one should make you feel like shit.
I remember the first I met him. It was in the third grade. I was new to the school and he was the first one to talk to me other than the faculty. We had a lot of commonalities between us, especially between our first names. We both shared the same name, Kyle. He was a bit of a heavier kid, while I did have some pork on, it wasn't like him. He was imaginative and a funny character that was able to put me at ease in the new school. I didn't know how long I was going to stay at the school because previously, I would move to another school after each school year. Therefore, I was glad that someone could finally put me at ease. My mother noticed a difference in me when I attended the school. She noticed that I would prefer to leave the house more often than staying inside to play video games. I lived in a little one-bedroom apartment with a basement at the time. I lived in the basement with my brother, and my mother and her husband had the one bedroom. Kyle lived pretty close by to me. He lived one block away from the school, and the school was roughly six blocks away from the apartment that I lived in. I would constantly walk to the park at the end of the street and meet up with Kyle there. We would throw a baseball, football, kick a soccer ball around or play basketball while we were there. There were sometimes some other kids that would join us and if we had enough other kids with us, we would play a big game of war on the playground. I would come home when it started to get dark and my mother was happy that I was out playing with other people.
There was one day that I went to the park and I sat on the swing waiting for Kyle. I think that I waited for about two hours. He never showed and I started to get worried. I wanted to know what was going on so I walked over to his house which was three blocks away from the park. The clouds were out that day and it looked like it was going to rain. As I was walking to his house, I could feel a raindrop here and there, but it never started to really downpour. He had a bluish house on the outside. It was a small house too, and it held his mother, grandmother and himself there. I knocked on the door and it took a bit of time for someone to answer the door. It wasn't anyone that I recognized and I asked where Kyle was. The lady on the other side of the door was quiet and told me that I should turn around and go home. Kyle wouldn't be able to play at all. I questioned her why not. She would come up with an excuse that I knew wasn't true. After bickering back and forth with her, she finally told me that his grandmother had passed away in the night and that he won't be able to play for quite a while.
During school after that, Kyle was quiet. Instead of being active and playing lego starships with me during recess, he put his head down on his desk and didn't speak. When recess was outside, he found a corner of the school building and sat there for the entire time. I felt as though I was losing my best friend then. I should've known that there was something bothering him from that point on, but I was too naive to know the effects of death on someone. No one I knew had died yet, or at least not significant in my life like his grandmother was for him.
After a year, he had gotten a bit better with moving on, but the mention of a grandmother to him was still very sensitive. His friends learned not to talk about family all that much around him because it would put him in a depressed state. Kyle and I had stayed friends throughout all of that and I felt that it strengthened our friendship; however, we were still being made fun of in school by other kids. They thought that we were a couple because we were always hanging out together. Wherever he was, I was. I thought that it was because we were best friends and that is what best friends do, they are always there. Other students didn't agree with my way of thinking. I would complain to my mother about this and she would do nothing. I argued to move away and live with my father because she wasn't willing to do anything for me. I got my wish after 6th grade, but I didn't know that my wish would kill my best friend.
The bullying only got worse as we grew up. Other students started to care about their looks, and care what others thought of them. If they could put people below them, it was like moving up the school totem pole. Everyone didn't want to be at the bottom of the totem pole, so they made fun of others thinking that it would boost their position on the pole. They were right, but they didn't consider our feelings. They were selfish, and due to their selfishness, they killed him. I moved away at the end of sixth grade, and since I wasn't there to battle the other students with Kyle, he took all the torture from their words and gestures. He couldn't take it anymore, and I wasn't there to calm him. That summer, he ended up taking his own life and I can't help but think that it was my fault. I killed him because I left. If only I didn't leave, he would still be alive.