• As I ran my hand over the small picture, I remembered his gentle smile and pale skin. I collapsed onto my bed, tears spilling out of my shut eyes. I happened a year ago, but it felt to me as though it happened yesterday. He was hit by a bus on a rainy day, it tried to stop, but it was not fast enough on that slippery road. He shoved me out of the way; I was oblivious of what was going on. When I snapped back to reality, I tried to grab his arm, to pull him away from his fate. I was just out of reach. I screamed. Everything went blurry. I heard people yelling, hands grabbed at me, but I slipped out of reach and onto the pavement. My tears mixed with the cold rain. I was in shock, but I managed to get up and run over to his body. My sight was still blurred. I screamed his name, while running my cold fingers through his black hair. I screamed his name over and over, calling out to him, but his body didn’t move, his pale skin becoming whiter by the moment. Hands started to grab at me again, and I let them, but I didn’t look up. Instead I looked at my hand, stained red. Blood. I looked over to my best friend’s body, lying there, like a ragdoll. I heard sirens sounding off in the distance. I wish that day had never happened. I looked through, yet again, blurred vision at his smiling face. I glanced at the bottom of the picture, looking at the date. If he would have known what was going to happen the next day, I wonder if he would have been smiling. But he didn’t know, and I didn’t know. That’s the way things are. That’s reality.