(Rachel, Kansas)

From the time I was 13, I only had one friend.  Jason was my best
friend in the whole world.  I told him everything.  I told him about
the time all the kids at school made fun of my hair.  I told him how
kids picked on me about every little thing.  I told him about the boy
I liked.  And he listened.  I admired him for that.  Nobody ever 
talked to me or listened to what I had to say.  And to think he was my
older brother.  When I was 13, Jason was 15.  I knew he could have 
been out playing baseball and chasing after girls with his friends.
Instead he stayed at home, talking to me and listening to everything I
had to say.  And now he is gone.

When I was 15, my life changed forever.  Before, when I was younger, 
Jason had always been there whenever I needed him.  Then one day, he
shut me out of his life.  I didn't know what had happened.  All of a 
sudden, he stopped talking to me and started going out with his
friends.  Sometimes late at night when I was lying in bed, I would 
hear Jason stumble in after a night of drinking and getting high.  
This wasn't the Jason I knew.  The Jason I knew didn't slam the door 
shut in my face when I tried to talk to him.  But this Jason did.  Why
was he doing this to me?

One day after school, I saw Jason driving by in his Camaro.  I didn't
think he saw me, but when he stopped the car and motioned for me to 
get in, there was no hesitation.  I hopped right in, thinking the old
Jason was back.  We drove in silence for about five minutes when we 
pulled into a park.  Jason told me that the reason he didn't hang out
with me like he used to was because he was sick of all that "kid" 
stuff.  He said he was growing up.  He was 17 now.  He had new friends
he would rather hang out with.  All that time he was talking I just
nodded my head.  I told him I understood.  He just needed to move on
with his life.  No more kid stuff.

About a month later, I was asleep in my bed when the phone rang.  It 
was late, almost 2 a.m., so I figured I'd just let it ring.  Maybe
someone else would answer it.  When no one did, I realized that this
was the weekend my parents were at my aunt's house.  The phone rang
and rang so I finally stumbled out of bed to get it.

"Hello?" I answered groggily.

"Heidi, it's mom."  My mother had been crying.  I could tell because
her voice was trembling.

"What's wrong, mom?"  I was scared that something happened to dad or
one of my relatives.

My mom explained what happened.  I couldn't take it anymore.  I threw
the phone on the floor and ran to my room.  How could this have 
happened?  Jason hadn't really killed himself, had he?  Mom told me 
that a friend of Jason's had found him in his car at the park.  Jason
took his own life in his own car.  The same car where he told me that
he wasn't going to hang out with me anymore.  He pulled a gun on himself.

My parents drove home that morning.  A memorial service was planned
for the next day.

At the service, a lot of people showed up.  All sorts of people I 
didn't know, but I assumed they were friends of Jason's.  I went to 
view Jason in his casket, and my mom came with me.  As I approached 
the casket, I broke down and cried.  I was in hysterics.  I yelled at
Jason.  "Why did you do this Jason?  Wake up!  Wake up Jason!  You're
supposed to be here with me!  Talk to me Jason!  Wake up!"  The more
and more I yelled, the more and more I cried.  My mom was now crying,
too.  My dad took us both outside to calm us.  I missed Jason so much
it hurt.

At home that evening, I layed in my room, looking at pictures of us
when we were younger.  I missed those days.  We had been so close.  
How did we grow so far apart?  We had once been able to talk about 
anything.  Now we couldn't talk at all.

My life changed that day when I was 15.  That day when Jason took his
life, my whole world was changed forever.