My Friend JP

                My friend, Jean-Paul… All I can think about is the stuff that killed him. It all began with marijuana, then leads to mushrooms, then to pills. That is when it gets real bad. The last day I can remember him. My friends, Jonathan, Kande, Brian, and JP, we all come off school for lunch. JP shows us all a bag of weed. He then takes us all to an ally about 4 blocks from our school. We all thought it was bad, but we all came with him. As I remember that day, I regret not stopping him. We all got the weed and took 2 hits from it. We thought we were cool, but we also thought we were invincible. While we were all back at school, we all tried to hide our “high.” JP then invited Brian and I to his house.
         My mom drops me off at Brian’s house, and we both walk to JP’s house. “What kind of weed do you think JP has?” asked Brian.
         I said, “He told me he had some called Linger.” Linger is the name we gave to a strong type of weed.
         We both arrive at JP’s house, we sneak in the back, and we enter his house. We say hi to his little sister, Bella. Then we walk upstairs. We wait about 2 hours for his Grandparents to fall asleep and we pull out the weed. He then pulls it out, along with some other stuff. We look at it and it says Klonopin. JP says, “I’ll be right back. Don’t touch my shit.”
         Brian and I both look at each other. I tell him, “What the fuck is Klonopin?”
         He looks at me puzzled and goes on JP’s laptop. He googles Klonopin and he tells me, “It’s Clonazepam and it helps treat seizures and panic attacks. It’s also a highly addictive drug that shouldn’t be taken with alcohol.”
         Right as he finishes his sentence, JP walks in. “Let’s start this shit.”
         I noticed that he was carrying a bottle of Bud Light, a pipe, and a lighter. He also had a piece of paper in his pocket. I knew this was going to be bad news. I don’t know why I did not tell him about Klonopin. All I remember was taking 4 good hits of weed and passing out. I woke up about 9:00 am in the living room and I tried to wake up Brian. He slowly woke up. He told me, “Dude, JP was so fucking funny yesterday. He was high as a motherfucker. He was also drunk.”
         “Why didn’t you wake me up? That would have been some funny shit.”
         “I couldn’t wake you up, you were stoned.”
         “Ah fuck, what time is it?”
         “Its 9:15”
         “Shit, my mom is coming in 15 minutes to pick me up. I smell like fucking weed. I am going to go take a shower. Give me some gum and that bottle of axe. I need to spray down my clothes. Where’s JP?”
         “Dude, I’m going to take a shower to. I’ll go to the downstairs one. Oh, he is in his room sleeping, when I come to his house, he always somehow manages to get to his bed.”
         “Ok.”
         Not more than 5 minutes in the shower, I realized that Klonopin cannot be taken with alcohol. “Shit” was all I said. I quickly ran out of the shower and tried to wake JP up. “JP, JP, wake up. Wake up…” Then it was a blur. I remember crying, and hearing ambulances there. Brian and I both followed the ambulance to the hospital. He was declared dead at the hospital.
         I walked back to JP’s room. I looked at it for 5 minutes. I couldn’t say a thing. I noticed a small paper in his bed. It looked like the one in his pocket the night before. I pulled it out and read it. It said:
         When you read this, I will probably be dead. This letter is to tell my Grandpa and Grandma, goodbye, and my little sister Bella I love you. I knew we got into many arguments, but I “should have been a better son.” This was not easy, because “the hardest part was leaving you.” I know that “there ain’t no way I am coming back again.” However, don’t worry… I have been welcomed to the black parade.                              

                                                                     -JP
         I finished reading this and I was speechless. I just sat down and cried. I couldn’t feel anything but guilt. I started thinking, “Why didn’t I tell him about Klonopin? Why didn’t I spend more time with him?” I also started thinking about how life is a gift, and it can be taken away from you in less than 5 minutes. More and more thoughts just started going through my head. About 5 minutes later, Brian came in and looked at the letter and started crying also. He told me that it was his fault that he did not say anything that night. The rest of that day was a blur.
         All I can think today are the things that killed my friend. Drugs. It begins with Marijuana, then to mushrooms, and then to pills, then after that, you won’t remember, what you started with, or what you ended with.