I need a title too...

I want to tell you a story. It’s about my friend, John. John and I
have been friends since kindergarten. We did everything together,
just the two of us. We rode bikes all the time. Every weekend we
slept over at one another’s house. We didn’t have many friends aside
from each other, but we didn’t care. We were like twins who never
wanted to play with anyone except each other. We were inseparable.
Two weeks ago, on a Saturday, we were at his house playing
video games. We did that a lot. It was one of our favorite things to
do. I was going to spend the night at his house that night. We were
going to watch a movie. I had more movies at my house than he did,
so we decided to go back there and get one. On the way we talked.
“So what movie do you wanna get?” he asked.
“I don’t know, you can choose. I chose last week, so this week
it’s your turn.” We kept talking about nothing in particular. We were
good at that, we had lots of practice.
To get from his house to mine we always took shortcuts through
alleys and backyards. The alleys weren’t usually very dangerous. You
just hoped a truck wasn’t coming through at the same time you were.
The backyard we usually crossed through had a gate in the back of it.
This night, it was locked. No big deal. We would just down to the main
road and go around. “I’ll race you to the street!” he siad.
“You’re on!” I yelled back. He took off. Whenever I tried to pass
him something got in the way. I tried once more, and crashed into a
metal garbage can. By the time I got started again, he was far ahead
of me. He stopped and looked back. He waited for me to catch up. He
asked if I was ok. I told him I was. He started riding again, this time
not as fast since we weren’t racing. I followed behind him and
watched as he rode out on to the main road.
No one saw it coming. His bike was lying in the street. The
windsheild of the light blue pickup was smashed and red. I couldn’t
move.
When the police came, they asked what happened. I could only
tell them, “I don’t know.” I hadn’t started crying. It still seemed like a
dream. This couldn’t happen. In the hospital the doctors said he died
on impact. I sure hope that was true. My best friend was gone.
Forever. What would I do on the weekends and aqfter school? Who
would I ride bikes and play video games with? I was shaking. It felt
as though the world had ended. Like I would never be the same.
The funeral home waspacked with people. Mostly his family.
There were some people from school. People who barely knew him. I
wondered why they bothered coming, if they even cared. They
probably just wanted a reason to get out of school early.
The funeral was the hardest part of it all. The whole time, all I
could see was that bloody, smashed, windsheild. When they started
lowering the casket, I wanted to jump in with him. I wanted to spend
eternity with my best friend. Riding bikes, and playing video games.

P.S. It has to be turned in on Tuesday (November 6th)

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