It had come. The worst day of my life had arrived. I wasn't looking forward to this at all, but there was nothing I could do to avoid it. It had happened a week before, but this had to happen right after.
Last week was the worst week of my life, and now it's the worst day of my life. 3 days prior, my best friend in the entire world, Audrey, had passed away.
Audrey and I had known each other since birth. Our mothers were friends, and it just so happened they went into labor on the same day, and were in the same hospital wing, only 5 rooms away from each other. We were born literally minutes apart on April 28th, me at 2:34 PM and her at 2:38. We had always been friends. Not even one fight, at least not one that I could remember.
Audrey and I were very different, however. When I dyed my hair pink, she dyed hers blonde. When I joined drama club, she joined the cheer squad. No matter what we did, though, we supported each other. I went to her competitions, she went to my shows. I went with her to some concerts, and, despite the fact that my music scared her, she went to see my favorite bands with me.
I was there when she was diagnosed, too.
When Audrey was diagnosed with leukemia, I didn't cry... at least not in front of her. I bit my lip, grinned and beared it. I said, "Audrey, you are going to get through this. You will survive, I promise." Well, I broke that promise.
She had leukimia for almost 2 years. Monday would have been the anniversary. But she didn't make it. She was a happy girl while she was alive. Always laughing and smiling, even when she lost all her hair. I know I couldn't have laughed or smiled if I had gone through what she did.
I was with her when she died, too. I was in her room, talking to her. All of a sudden, she got really tired. She closed her eyes, whispered, "I love you, Gwen," and then her heart monitor went crazy. Doctors rushed in and out, screaming. Or maybe that was me, being dragged out of her room by a nurse. I sat in the waiting room and sobbed with Audrey's mother until a doctor came out, looking sweaty and tired. She just... shook her head. Audrey's mother screamed and I just put my head in my hands and sobbed, unable to believe this. She had been fine ten minutes ago... she can't just be... gone now.
Then, 3 days later, the funeral happened. That was the worst day of my life. I didn't look at her; it would hurt too much. I gave a small speech, played her favorite song, and cried like I've never cried before. My mother held me and cried, and Audrey's mother held me and cried, too.
The worst part was at the cemetary. I had been to my grandfather's funeral, and the coffin was big. This coffin was small. It looked big enough for a medium-sized dog. That was what was the worst. It hurt to know that in that wooden box was my best friend, never to be seen again. She would never get married. She would never have kids.
I heard somewhere a mother should never have to bury her child. Audrey's mother wasn't even 40, and she had already buried one.
Rest in peace, Audrey Flowers
Born: April 28th, 1995
Died: April 28th, 2012