What if he was like all the other boys?

Per­haps he would­n’t be dea–

Gone.

He can’t be gone. He’s just play­ing. Pre­tend­ing.

Per­haps he’d have some posters up or some­thing.

Per­haps he’d love sports?

Per­haps he’d have a foot­ball or bas­ket­ball–or bet­ter yet,
some tro­phies from ei­ther.

But he is­n’t like all the other boys. Was­n’t. He never was.

He al­ways went his own way.

You wish he did­n’t.

Maybe he’s just con­fused. Maybe this is all a mis­un­der­stand­ing. Maybe he thinks he has to play dea–

Play gone.

Maybe he thinks it is a game? Maybe he does­n’t re­ally want you to hurt so much?

Maybe if you were a bet­ter role model, this would never have hap­pened. He would have made
bet­ter friends (any friends), would have fallen in with the right sort.

Not with who­ever did this.

Did what?

He can’t be gone.

If he’s gone, you’ll never see him find a girl­friend.

Never see him get mar­ried.

Never seem him have kids.

Never see him live.

He won’t be your friend, any­more.

Some friend you were. So much you were sup­posde to do, and never did. So much
fun you were sup­posed to have, and never will. So many mo­ments you out to have
cher­ished…

Now it’s a strug­gle just to keep a grasp on those mem­o­ries you still have.

You were sup­posed to pro­tect him.

He’s gone.