The Story of My Best
friend.
I was 3. He was 2. We were living in an
apartment building. There was this little boy that lived down the
hall. His name was Trevor. We met and started hanging out.
Whenever he was home he would run straight through the door and
into my bedroom without even knocking. He soon became my best
friend. We were partners in crime. No one could ever slit us up.
We were inseparable. But the thing is, Trevor wasn’t like
any other little boy. He was diagnosed with neuroblastoma
cancer when he was young. The Type of Neuroblastoma he had, was
very rare. Only 10 or so kids in the world have gotten it.
Why did it have to be him? He went through chemotherapy a
lot. I went to the hospital to visit him sometimes. The doctors
said the cancer was gone. When he turned 4, the cancer
started to get really bad. It was not to long before his
4th birthday that he said he didn’t feel well.
He had never had a real birthday party before because he was
always in the hospital or sick. It was during his 4th
birthday party, the first and last one he was ever going to have.
I remember he had gotten this present, it was a Spiderman pillow.
He loved Spiderman, Buzz Light-year, and Woody. They were his
favorite characters. He started getting really sick and sleepy at
his party. He was laying down. Then after we left, they took him
to the hospital. The cancer had come back. His hair started to
fall out. After so long, they couldn’t stare at it any
longer, so they shaved his head. About two months after his
birthday.. He passed away. When I would cry, my mom would always
tell me that god needed him more than we did and that he was
probably up in heaven riding his little dirt bike all around.
That would always make me laugh. To this day I still
miss him like crazy. He was my very first best friend. He would
be in 7th grade right now. My mom helped me through it
every step of the way. I visit his grave every year. I know he is
my guardian angel watching over me. I still feel like he is here
from time to time. When I got sad, I would just look at his
picture and remember that he is in a better place now. It was
hard. I can still remember the sound of his voice, his baby blue
eyes, and his bright blonde hair. His death had a big impact on
me. My mom wouldn’t let me go to the funeral or his
visitation. She thought it wasn't a place for kids to be, and
it would just hurt me even more to see him laying there.
Lifeless. I was so mad that I couldn’t go. But now, 10
years later, I am glad she wouldn’t let me go. Because if I
did, I don’t think I would ever be able to forget that
picture of him in the casket. It affected my mom a lot too. She
could never imagine having to go through that with one of her own
children. I now know he’s never going to have to suffer
again, and he wont have to be sad. Because he is in a better
place now. You were a fighter. You satyed strong as long as you
could. But it was okay to go. You can't suffer anymore.
Sorry, i just needed to vent a little. R.I.P Little buddy. I love
you.
