Losing My Friend

Losing My Friend
She was my close friend and I loved her. She was the coolest girl in junior high and everyone wanted to be like her... and she chose me to be her friend. Her name was Carly. She was beautiful with her long black hair, and tall, thin body. While the rest of us were trying to take shape, Carly was already beautifully poised in her adult body.
Her mother had died when she was a little girl. Carly was an only child, and she lived alone with her father. By the time we would get home from school every day, he would already be at work. He wouldn't come home until two or three in the morning, so we had full reign of the house. No parental supervision was the greatest thing we could ask for as teenagers. Her house was a big, two-story that was conceled by oak trees. You couldn't see the house from the street and we liked it that way. It added to the mystique and allure we were always trying to create.
At school, Carly was pretty much the center of attention. One whole corner of the quad was dedicated to Carly and her "followers." If there was new music, clothes, hairstyles, or even new ways to take notes or study, you could be fairly certain it came from that corner of the quad. Even the school faculty caught on to the power this girl held and convinced her to run for class president. Carly and I were voted president and vice president by a landslide.
By day, we were good students; by night, we hosted social activities at Carly's house. If we weren't having a party, people would come just to hang out. Kids would be there for all kinds of reasons- to talk about relationships, their parents, to do their homework, or just because they knew someone they liked would be showing up.
After everyone left, I would usually spend the night. My mom wouldn't like it very much if it was a school night. Sometimes Carly would come over to my house to spend the night, but my mom wouldn't like that either because we'd stay up all night laughing and talking. Carly didn't like to be home alone.
That following summer, after I came home from a vacation with my family, things started to change. Carly looked thinner than usual with dark circles under her eyes. The once strikingly beautifu girl looked pale and gaunt. She said she missed me a lot. While it was a boost to my ego, I couldn't believe it was entierly true. After all, there were always people trying to be close to her and get into her circle of friends.
My solution: two weeks at the beach. Our parents pitched in to rent a beach house for two weeks. My mom would be the only supervision. In Carly's iminitable style, we collected a group of beach friends within a couple of days. We'd all hang out at this local cafe during the day, when we wern't in the water or on the sand and at night, we'd all gather around a fire pit on the beach.
Carly started to look like her old self, but better. She was tan. She looked great in a bikini, and all the guys on the beach wanted to be around her. But she had started to smoke marijuana. She told me it calmed her nerves.
When school started the next year, things wern't the same and I missed the old routine. Carly wanted to get into different things then I wanted, and she started hanging aroung guys more and more. We would still hsng out from time to time, but it wasn't at all like it used to be. Deep down, I was worried about my friend.
One morning when I arrived at school, there were police cars all around and a lot of nervous activity in the halls. I was on my way to my locked when my counselor and a teacher stopped me. I was asked to follow them to the office. My heart was pounding so fast, I could hardly catch my breath. My head was racing with the different scenerios that might have caused thid odd behavior.
When we all sat down in the counserlor's office, the principal came in and took a seat. Was I in some kind of trouble?? And then my world froze in time with the words, "Carly took her own life last night using her father's gun." I couldn't talk; I couldn't move. Tears started streamimg from my eyes before my heart could even comprehend the pain. She was only fifteen years old.
As Carly's suicide note explained, her father had repeatedly sexually abused her and she knew no ther way out. Months after he was arrested, he finally confessed. The note also said something else. It said the only family she knew and cared about was me. She left me a ring that her mother had left to her.
I cried for weeks. How is it that I never knew?? We were closer then anyone and talked about everything; how come she never told me that? I was certain that I could have helped her and began to blame myself.
After weeks of grief counseling, I came to understand the burden of Carly's sexual abuse was too much for her to bear, especially when she started to become intimite with boys. The counselor explained that her shame was too great to talk about - even to her best friend. It dawned on me how alone she must have felt, and it became very clear to me why she never wanted to spend the nights alone at her house.
Carly's suicide note requested that she be cremated. The note said I should spread her ashes wherever I wanted to. I chose the ocean off the beach where we had spent two weeks that summer.
On the day of the memorial, we rented a boat to take us out to sea. The boat was packed with friends and teachers, even though it was a rainy, overcast day. We stood on the bow and took turns sharing our experiances and love for Carly. When it came time for me to free her ashes, I hesitated. I didn't want to turn them loose into a sea that looked dark and menacing. I thought she had had enough of that in her own life.
My hesitancy gained attention, and both my mother and my counselor stepped up on the platform and put their arms around me. With their support, I opened the lid and set Carly free. As some of the ashes hit the surface of the water, the sun broke through for a moment and sent beautiful rays of light that sparkled on the surface of the water. The clouds parted some more and soon the whole boat was bathed in warm sunlight. At that moment, I felt calmer then I had in weeks. I knew that the angels had come for Carly and that she would be all right- and so would I.