This was written by the best friend of the boy who died, she is my hero and I look up to her so much,
Let me tell you something about Charlie Zhang We were best friends in middle school. I know, right? It’s so embarrassing. I don’t even… Whatever. So then in eighth grade, I started going out with my first boyfriend Kyle who was totally gorgeous but then he moved to Indiana, and Charles was like, weirdly jealous of him. Like, if I would blow him off to hang out with Kyle, he’d be like, “Why didn’t you call me back?” And I’d be like, “Why are you so obsessed with me?” So then, for my birthday party, which was an all-girls pool party, I was like, “Charles, I can’t invite you, because I think you’re lesbian.” I mean I couldn’t have a lesbian at my party. There were gonna be girls there in their *bathing suits*. I mean, right? He was a LESBIAN. So then his mom called my mom and started yelling at her, it was so retarded. And then he dropped out of school because no one would talk to him, and he came back in the fall for high school, all of his hair was cut off and he was totally weird, and now I guess he’s on crack.
Sometimes I like to think Charles was all mine- he became to me, not a best friend, but an extension of my own being. I still don’t believe that I’ve lost him.
Our relationship has never been a boring one- anyone who has even met me has heard tell of at least one of our misadventures.
Here’s the thing- we were going to grow old together. I’d have your family over for thanksgiving, you and your kids or whatever, and whatever family I have. And that’s how it was going to be, our lovely little life.
See, when one of us goes through something, the other echoes it.
When you got hit by that fucking car, I got diagnosed with Aspergers. When you were homeschooled, I was as well. And then there was that whole Romeo and Juliet phase we went through. Days earlier, I was talking about my own suicidal thoughts and reasonings.
And for fucks sake, you’re dead, and I’m dead inside.
See, you won’t rest in peace. Where you’ll go, there are no angels, or demons, or anything. You’re just gone, and there’s nothing.
Now, I can try to deny that you ever existed and move the fuck on with my life, but I can’t. You tried to do that one time to me, and it was one of the worst fucking things you ever put me through (aside from this).
It’s hard for me not to be angry about this- it feels like you left me, which you did. But really, you didn’t leave just me. You left all of us. And losing you- it fucking kills me.
So I’m left to do to you in death what we loved to do to each other in life- I’ll do this to spite you. I’ll do this to spite you because I loved you so damn much, and I can’t bring myself to write some happy memory about you. All our funny stories were somehow laced, ever so lightly, in sadness and pain. That’s what brought us together, and now that’s what took you from me.
And just to spite you, I’ve decided I’m going to live for you, and I think that’s the meanest thing I can do to you. Clearly, you didn’t want to live, so I’m going to make you live. I’m going to go through life twice as hard for you, and I’m going to keep you alive. I can’t bottle your existence, but I can bottle your stories. Maybe I’ll write a book. Maybe I’ll do something with those hubcaps we collected. I’ll do SOMETHING.
I wasn’t done with you yet, bitch.”
March 20, 2014
So I know its been a very long time since i journaled, but it has been a rough two months. Today marks the second suicide at my school in the last two months, and I have just about had it with the silence. The first was a beautiful girl (I will not use names to respect their privacy), she was an amazing artist and was going to NYU. She was smart, caring and everybody loved her. She had a younger sister who is now a sophmore in high school. THough I didn’t know this girl well, many of my friends did and it was painful and heartbreaking to watch all of them walk around silently crying. There was a wake, and details were released about her death. No note, no explanation, just a bag over her head and duct tape around her neck.
Today my school found out about the death of a fellow artist, also an NYU acceptee. He had a bright future and was never sad a day in his life. Sadly the difference between him and the girl is that he was a more controvesial person. He painted his nails and dressed like a girl. Basically, he got bullied. Just yesterday I saw him in the hall and he was smiling as usual. I said hi and he waved back, and then this morning he was found hanging from a tree in the woods.
I am at a loss of words at the tragedies my school and student body has endured and i truly hope that the families will be able to one day enjoy life again, and that they wont hurt as much. I hope that the two who died have found their peace and no longer suffer. Good byes are sad, but the memories were good. Rest in Peace Rowen and Charles