Mourning for Shelly

My name is Kirk. This all started about three months ago when Shelly’s parents got a divorce. Both of her parents decided to leave her behind with her grandmother. Her mother left to peruse her dream and left for England. Her dad found a love for his drugs and hasn’t been seen since. After they left Shelly became very depressed and it was difficult to watch. I guess from the very beginning I knew that there was something wrong when she slowly began to act differently. At first she became really clingy, especially with her boyfriend. It seemed every day that she never wanted any of her friends to leave her side. I did what I could, given my massive amounts of homework my calculus class gives me on a daily basis, but I still think that there was a lot more that I could have done. Everyone always tells me that I did the best that I could, but if that were true I wouldn’t be here talking to you would I?

                The second thing I noticed Is she started arriving late to school. The only reason why I mention that is because she was a strait “A” student and was never late to any of her classes. She showed up to class with her sunglasses over her eyes and her homework incomplete. I know that this might not show up as some kind of red flag to you, but this was Shelly for god’s sake. Then her and her boyfriend broke up after I caught him making out with another girl. When I had told Shelly you would have thought that I punched her in the gut. She completely broke down and shut herself off from the world living almost completely within her house. I tried to call her, email her, text her, the whole nine yards. My friends told me that she would get over it soon and everything would return to normal. I find it to be sick how ironic the whole ordeal is. No one would have expected what would happen just two weeks ago, not even me.

                I had heard some rumors several days before that shelly had begun to use drugs and drink excessively. One rumor I heard was that David saw her smoking a bong and drinking a bottle of vodka not too far from the park. That is when I really began to worry, and knowing what I know I really should have. Once I could stand it no longer I walked all the way to her house after school. It didn’t take too long since her house was only just less than a mile away from our high school campus. Part of me wishes that I never went, but then again I’m glad that I was the only one to see what had happened. 

    I knocked on the door and waited for her to answer. when no one did I became suspicious. Shelly’s car was in the drive way and I knew that her grandmother was at work for the day, and given recent events it was hard to believe that she had simply gone on an afternoon jog.  I tried the door and to my surprise it opened easily. I peeked my head inside and announced my presence. I had been to her house many times before, hell we were best friends growing up, so I didn’t feel guilty for walking in when I got no answer. I searched her entire house for her, and to this day I still wish I hadn’t seen it. I found her sitting in a pool of her on blood in the bathtub. I knew she was dead, but I called the police in a hurry. As I waited for their arrival my stomach churned and I felt sick to my guts. She was pronounced dead on the spot and her grandmother was unreachable. Shelly died at age 17 in the middle of our junior year.

                At the funeral I as the first to arrive and the last to leave. My brother had to punch me in the face to bring me home that day. I myself haven’t been the same since she died. Part of me feels guilty for what happened, like I should have done more to help her. I guess that’s the real reason I’m sitting in this chair talking to you.