"Chace is dead." He paused, "I wouldn't lie to you Josh."
Instantly, I ran out. I booked it and opened the first door I could see with sheer momentum and adrenaline. I was scared, horrified. My best friend, dead. No wonder he hasn't been showing up for classes, I just thought he started hanging around with Yantze that drug dealer more.
As I was running I began thinking about our last moments together.
*"What the hell is with you hanging out with that druggie lately?"
"He's not just a druggie, he's a good guy and he's my friend. If you can't accept that I don't think we should hang out anymore."
"Those are just the drugs talking, talk to me when your sober!"*
I ran away after that, my last words were horrible, accusing him of drugs. I eventually found an empty nook in some alley, I sat there and began to cry, to think, but most of all to wallow in my own guilt.
Did I drive him to die, was I one of the contributing factors to his death? If I was, could I ever live with myself?