“You are my first love.” And then, “You will be my only love.”
― REBECCA WALKER, Adé: A Love Story
INNER CITY STORIES
It was the middle of December in the year 2005. I was a little boy when I met Ariana. I remember it like it was yesterday; we were in the same school up until sixth grade. Ariana was a very funny and smart girl who always knew how to brighten up my day. I remember all the songs we sang together, the games we played, and even all the silly faces we made. She was always a kind soul who never asked for anything from anybody. Ariana would always be the one to crack jokes, help a friend in need, and take me in as one of her own. Our friendship was one that could have lasted a lifetime, but sadly things changed. Once seventh grade started she would go out and try to run away from home, tell me how she didn't belong in this world, even resort at times to cutting her wrists. I did everything in my power to ensure that she was okay, but it didn't quite work all the time I would always remind her of how great a person she was, how she had an amazing voice that could have been known internationally, and even remind her why I was her friend and cared about her as much as I did.
I remember saying to Ariana, “Although life isn’t how you planned for it to be, I’ll always be by your side.” Hearing me say that would make her smile; she would tell me how much she loved me by calling me an idiot. Those memories are what I cherish the most from our friendship. I remember one day when I came home from school I called her only to hear her mother say that she was in the hospital due to an overdose. I did everything I could to be there for her; I stayed in the hospital with her that night, telling over and over, “I will not leave you alone.” I asked her why she had tried to end her life and she answered, “This is the only way I can find peace in this world.” She also told me that several very sick and evil men had gotten inside her head. I remember her saying that they told her evil things like, “You are a worthless piece of trash who will never deserve anything good in life.” She cried for hours on end that night, telling me how she just wished she had died instead of being in that hospital bed. That night I vowed to protect her no matter what the situation was, yet I failed to make that happen.
Everything seemed to be going well for the next two months. But then things went bad again in April, one week after her thirteenth birthday. She began cutting herself again, making promises she couldn’t keep, and leaving her house at night and not returning until 2:00 in the morning. On May 18, 2012 I got a call from Ariana’s mother; she was crying so much it was hard to understand everything she was saying, but I managed to make out her mutter, “Ariana she is dead!” I asked, “How can this be? She can’t be gone!” With a depressing mumble she replied, “Ariana took her father's gun; since I was still in bed I had no idea what she was doing, and before I knew it I heard a loud bang.” I asked her if the police and medical examiner had said anything, and she said they had told her, “She shot herself in the right side of her head, killing her almost instantly.”
Ever since that day I’ve felt like everything in my life has been ruined. Ariana was the best girl in the world and now she is gone. I pray that one day we'll meet again. I wish I could just tell her how much she meant to me. I just want her to know that I will always love her.