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Today.
It's been ten years today, and it hurts like it just happened even still.

A full decade since one of the closest people I've ever had in my life killed himself.  The anniversary of his death is still a bad day for me every year, and I'll likely sleep with the doll he made me again, just like I do every year to have some part of him near me.

He was actually my sister's friend first, but as he was around longer, he shifted to being more my friend than hers.  He wasn't just getting stoned with me like he would with her, but going on adventures, and discussing abstract topics and literature.  We barely hugged, but the way we simply acted like we'd never be apart spoke of our care for each other.

Across the street from him were some mutual friends we would hang out with most days.  He pretty much lived there rather than with his dad, and we all did pretty much everything together.

On the weekends we would play lasertag and sing karaoke.  Yes.  In the same place.  Because yes.
It was ritual.
We'd all meet up, hang out for the evening, have a ton of silly fun, recover on Sunday, then I'd see some of them Monday at school.

Well, one week they weren't there.
I had no idea why, but I had fun regardless.  That may have actually been the night I met Zero, but I don't really remember now.  That is a story in itself.

That Monday, one of the kids we often hung out with popped out of homeroom on my way to first period and told me they had a huge party over the weekend.  That explained why they weren't there, but I still had a bad feeling.  I continued on about my day though, and when I got home, wondered why he wasn't around.  No calls, or randomly showing up at the door, or anything.

My sister got a call from his father.

He was in jail.
He had gotten drunk at the party and fallen asleep on the couch.  The younger brother of our group of mutual friends found him there (who was two years younger than me) and decided to experiment.  The older brother discovered the kid already with cock in hand, not knowing he was completely passed out, and called their mother.
The mother freaked, and called the police.

So now, this person that was so close to me, is taken away due to panic, and I don't know when I'll ever see him again.
He plead guilty just to take the plea bargain.

He would have gotten out just in time to see me graduate High School.
But he didn't make it that long.

It's true what they say that abusers and rapists get the worst treatment in prison.  Whether or not he was actually guilty, the fact that he was gay and being charged for child molestation had effectively painted a target on his forehead.  He couldn't deal with it, and knew that if he did get out, he'd never be able to escape those accusations and abuse.

He killed himself not even two years later.
I was getting ready for bed when the phone rang.  It was his dad.  I was the first person to know after the prison called him.  He was gone, and that was such an odd concept to me.  I never thought that he wouldn't be a part of my life.  I still have days where I miss him, and that idea that there is no way for me to have any contact with him tears me apart.

I couldn't go to school for the rest of the week.  I mostly stayed curled up in bed hiding.  It's the only death to ever actually affect me at this point in my life.  When I finally got back to school, a friend asked where I had been, and jokingly asked who died.  I said his name, and within seconds we were both curled up in the corner of the classroom, apologizing to me.  The teacher saw us, and I explained what happened.  We stayed there the rest of class, because I didn't want to go back to my desk.

In two weeks, I remade the new character I was planning to play at my larp to be a tribute to him.  Including carrying around the doll he had made me.  The few people that could touch it knew that it wasn't a character thing for me to be so protective of it, but a personal thing.  Even when I made another appearance with the character a year ago, people mentioned that I "still had that thing".  Another player said that it would be a horrible day whenever I might lose Dolly, because it is a very important object, because they knew the story behind it.

Every year hits me just the same though.  I've even performed on the anniversary, and walked off stage in tears at the end.

I miss him.

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