My Best Friend Charlie
My best friend Charles and I go way back, I'm 21 years old now and we lost Charles Jeremy Caron three years ago.
I've known him ever since I was six years old, we went to school together right from the first grade all the way through grade twelve. Charlie and I went to college right after high school and man the first year was a blast, we went to parties and had the best time ever. Charlie and I couldn't wait for our second year.
During that following summer we took a trip to the Dominican Republic for our summer getaway, while we were there he bought me a T-shirt that said "PALS", and he said "no matter what we'll always be together" and with a smile he shook my hand.
Our second year back in college Charlie, for some reason, was quiet all year long, he couldn't seem to have a good time. One night he was on his way to return our books to the library and I asked if I should accompany him. He said "you know what, take a break, I could use the walk alone". It was half past midnight and he hadn't returned so I walked to the library and saw a lot of people surrounding something in front of the doorway. I quickly ran as fast as I could and saw Charlie there lying on the ground at the bottom of the stairs. I quickly made my way over there and sat beside him but he was already dead. With anger I yelled out "who did this, I want to know!?" but nobody replied, they just stood there and stared at me. Finally the police arrived and took Charlie into autopsy right away. Two days later they reported that Charlie had died of an overdose. I didn't see this coming, never once did Charlie mention suicide.
After the funeral Charlie's mom Virginia asked me to stop by at her place for coffee. So I went and as soon as I walked inside she was already crying and told me to have a seat, she said "I should've told you this before but as a kid Charles was raped by his late father Jimmy" she was sorry for hiding the secret from me his best friend.
One year had passed and I had dropped out of college and was working at Blockbuster. On the anniversary of the night of his death I closed up the store, rented two movies and went home. I remember walking inside my house thinking "is Charlie really gone?" so I popped in the first movie and started watching until I heard someone knocking on my door. So I got up thinking it was my mom but there was no one and I heard my mom yelling out my name downstairs so I went over and she was terrified, she said that she heard foot steps coming towards my room and I told her that there was a knock and she said she heard that too. I calmed her down and took her to my aunts place, I went back to our house thinking that my mom was losing it. As soon as I walked inside I took a quick shower and went to sleep. Late at night I heard something moving the dishes around, I just stood still and listened, moments later I heard foot steps coming upstairs towards my room and as it came closer I started feeling weak and just like that I blacked out. On the next day I woke up and saw my T-shirt which read "PALS" hanging out of my dresser.
To this day my mom had moved out of the house and I live alone, now I'm used to this presence and hear the same thing every night because if Charlie can't go over to the other side, like a true friend I will welcome him in my home until the day I die.