I got well depressed when this guy died [he was only 18]. He took a bullet for his mate and then his mate announced his death on Quizilla.com. The guy's name was Rave, and this is for him, so people won't forget what an awesome guy I've heard he is. He always said 'don't take anyone's shit'. And we listen, because he's right. We SHOULDN'T take anyone's shit!
My hero.
My idol.
My savior.
My brother.
My lover.
He was everything.
Now I just wish I'd told him how much he meant to me. But it's too late now.
Way too late.
It's my fault he's gone. But I'm sure if he was here right now, he's say 'Daisuke, you ASS! It's not your fault, bro!'.
Problem is...itwas my fault. Everyone knows it was.
He did it for me.
He took several bullets for me that night.
My savior.
I suppose losing someone is...I don't know...most people be relieved they had one less person to deal with. Others will find it sad. Some will celebrate. But we did neither of these things. We wanted to cry, but didn't, for we could hear his voice in our heads...
'Don't say proper goodbyes, now. Or you'll start howling. Don't you even dare cry, otherwise I will haunt you. That's a promise!'
I promised I wouldn't cry. We all promised. But...he was just so perfect. Perfect boyfriend, brother, son, nephew, friend etc.
We loved him.
We couldn't hold the tears in any longer.
Especially me.
So there I sat on the cold pavement, holding him in my arms, tears springing to my eyes. No one interrupted my grieving.
They knew I'd be so mad at them, they won't make it alive. I'd ignored the 'help! call 911!' calls from my friends.
I knew he wouldn't survive.
He knew it too.
He'd spent his last 10 minutes trying to comfort me, though I should've been the one comforting him.He shouldn't have saved me. I was the one who should've died.
That was exactly what I told him that night.
"You asshole!" he's choked. "You're my friend, bro, why let you die so I can live? It's better this way. Everyone'll be much happier with me gone, alright. Just...promise me everyone'll be okay. Take care of everyone for me, eh? Promise...promise me..."
He couldn't finish, as tears fell down his cheeks.
"I promise!" I'd howled, holding him tighter.
"I love you, dude..."
Those were the last words he'd ever said to me and before I could respond...he was gone. I cried, and no one could stop me then. I'd cursed myself for being such an idiot and getting involved in all the gangster/mafia stuff, so I had problems and he had to save me.
Then the ambulance had arrived, and they took him away from me.
Forever.
I'd protested bitterly.
He was dead, why take him to the hospital, for fuck's sake!?
All a mystery to me.
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That night, I couldn't sleep, nor could I stop crying. I'd tried comforting his mum, but ended up all depressed myself. I had to stop. I knew it. I tried.I succeeded.
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Not a day goes by that I don't miss him, but I gotta get on with life. I'm sure he's in a better place right now, and he's watching over me amiling, thinking I'd forgotten him and it was better this way.
But I haven't forgotten.
He's still my friend.
My best friend.
And nothing'll ever change that.
We miss and love him.
We'll always remember my hero.
Sam.
PS: I changed the name to Sam
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