Essay, Research Paper
My Beautiful Friend
Suicide is a deep and complicating loss. It leaves a profound and everlasting effect on everyone it touches. The mere word “suicide” conjures up a sorrowful and tragic image coupled with pity and disbelief at such an outrageous, selfish and extreme act. When someone you care about commits suicide, the burden of guilt and pain are overwhelming. The aftermath of a suicide is complex and almost seems to consume you. The tragedy of loss is only magnified.
I was present when one of my dearest friends, Kenny, chose to end his life. He was only nineteen years old. When Kenny died, my life, my world, was instantly turned upside down. Everything became immediately foreign and I was changed as a person. In a second, I lost all control over my normalcy.
I went to school with Kenny’s brother and roommate, James. We were all very close and spent most of our spare time in each other’s company. They had a house, just down the street from their parents’, in the mountains, about a half-hour from town. When I wasn’t at work or school, I was there. I would frequently spend the weekend there sometimes just hanging out with the boys, doing a whole lot of absolutely nothing.
We were really into punk shows, and, in fact, that’s how I met Kenny. Right after they had first moved in the house, they had a show (a great party centered on live bands) to “break in the place”. I hung out with James at school most of the time and whenever he stayed in town, but had only been to his parents’ a handful of times (usually to get him and go back to town). They really lived in the sticks! I knew James’ younger brother, Mike, but, until that night, I didn’t know Kenny, his older brother.
The show was fabulous, tons of people, several awesome bands, a huge mosh (love to watch, but am not big on getting thrashed around and bruised in that mess), people everywhere. I had lost James and the rest of our friends to the mosh and beer runs and was walking around saying hello to people, enjoying the music. I was standing alone when this tall, good-looking guy came and stood next to me. I didn’t recognize him and yelled over the music, “Who are you.”
He gave me a bizarre look, as if I was the stupidest person alive and answered, phrasing it almost like a question as if surely I must know, “Kenny. I live here.”
I was absolutely horrified and apologized profusely, introduced myself and generally felt like a complete idiot. He was completely cool and laughed and said he’d heard of some of my adventures with James. That was it. After that, we were nearly inseparable.
On St. Patrick’s Day, as I was about to leave school, I saw James heading for the bus. I had intentionally avoided the house the previous weekend because I realized I couldn’t recall a single weekend I hadn’t been up there for months. They called my house at least twenty times, but I was determined to stay away for one entire weekend. Now that it was Monday, I figured I’d better get Kenny off my back and a visit would be just the ticket. Silly as it may sound, I missed them already!
James accepted the ride without a second thought, a two-hour bus ride couldn’t be fun. When we arrived, Kenny beckoned me inside. I saw the classic green mustang parked out front and knew Joy, his girlfriend, must be in the house. When I got in, Joy looked as if she’d been crying and Kenny informed me that it was to be his “last night on Earth” because, among other things, Joy had dumped him. He melodramatically insisted that I stay so that he and I could hang out a final time. I did not take him seriously, but finally, I relented. Joy and I talked for a few minutes about why she had broken up with him and what to do about him talking about suicide. After a few minutes, she had to leave.
I found Kenny in his room and he proceeded to tell me all of the reasons for killing himself. His girlfriend dumped him, he couldn’t find his paycheck, he lost $80.00 of his father’s money, he was on the verge of losing his job, he thought he would lose the house because he couldn’t find his paycheck, etc. I tried to tell him everything wasn’t so bad. I rattled off seemingly simple solutions to all of his problems. He just laughed at me. All he needed to do was pull himself together.
Drugs had consumed Kenny when he was younger. He had cleaned up his act and had been doing very well until a few weeks previous. All of his problems stemmed from his recent fall back into drugs. He started missing work and his boss saw through his charades and excuses. Joy was leaving him because she didn’t want to see him ruin himself, nor could she let him drag her down with him. He was very at ease and comfortable and made it clear that he didn’t want us to see him or be involved, he just wanted us to be there for him until he was ready. I honestly thought he was just being overly dramatic and probably felt like committing suicide, but would never really do it. I couldn’t comprehend him, Kenny, doing anything but picking himself up, dusting off, and moving on.
We went to town to drop off my truck, and now, I kick myself for doing it, but to buy some beer as well. We also picked up Tammy, my best friend, who had never met Kenny, but knew James and had heard all of our stories and had been dying to meet him for quite some time. Even though this was not Kenny at his best,
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