I remember everything about the day I left, from what I wore to what she wore. I wore my dirty white vans with skinny jeans and this ugly top my mother got me for Christmas; which I only wore to make her happy. My best friend, however, wore her rather large black vans, size 11 in women's, with her favorite grey sweatpants and One Direction hoodie.
She looked more depressed than she already had been; within very good reason, of course. I was moving away, about a couple of states East and into Oklahoma, while she stayed here in the blazing summer heat of Arizona. Neither of us wanted me to leave, but my parents had to just ruin our lives and take us to another hell hole much like this Prison town, where my best friend amd I grew up together.
We texted each other all the time, when she was in her class and when I stayed at my new home. Being the smart and utterly perfect girl she was, she stayed in high school, while I dropped out because I couldn't focus in any of my classes. My main reason for not focusing was that she was out there, crying her eyeballs out in sorrows, and I was over here doing the same.
I missed her more than anything in the world.Though I saw her a week ago, having fun, but I didn't know it would've been the last time I ever saw her again. She seemed like the happiest person in the world when she spoke to me last, like her condition got better. But it hadn't gotten better, she was just overjoyed that she saw me again, a couple years later.
It was in the middle of a nice day in summer, school for them ended a couple of weeks ago and I had stayed with my dad a couple of towns over so I could visit her whenever. I was walking down the street, to her neighborhood, when I saw her relaxing outside with some stranger. I thought it was peculiar because she never left her house under any circumstances couple of years ago.
My steps became louder and faster, enraged that she befriended a person that wasn't me, but I kept my expression straight and unreadable. She hadn't spotted me making my way over yet, thank god for her short attention span, but the girl she was with had nodded in my direction, making my best friend turn her head my way. The expression on her face was absolutely priceless when she recognized it to be me; her one and only best friend.
"No way! Marissa?! Oh my god!" She screeched, running my way in long strides. She stopped in front of my short body and leaned down to engulf me in a huge embrace that only her bestest friend would receive.
My face broke out into an overexcited smile as I hugged her back, "Yes, Darcy; I'm back - for good this time." My smile hadn't faded until her snobby friend cleared her throat, trying to regain Darcy's attention.
Reluctantly, she let go, but as slow as possible, savoring the hug she had been longing for for three years, " Oh, uh, Marissa, this is Taylor; she's my-"
Taylor cut Darcy off before she could save my feelings for what she was going to saying next, "I'm her best friend." Taylor stuck out her hand unwillingly, as Darcy shot her a blazing glare.
We had a long conversation on how they met, when they met, etc. It was after I moved, the beginning of sophomore year, and they had the same first hour with no friends to talk to and were seated next to each other. I guess the teacher said something stupid and they were the only two laughing at that moment.
I wasn't having a very fun time with my best friend and hers, it made me feel replaced and forgotten until Taylor became snobby once more and asked the question I didn't want to answer, "So how do you know Darcy?"
'I've basically know her since birth and we've been best friends ever since, you are just a sad and terrible replacement for me.' I wanted to say, but I, instead, let Darcy explain everything to her.
I was surprised on how detailed she had gotten, I'd expected her to forget like she forgot about me entirely, but she told Taylor all these jokes we used to share in the seventh and eighth grade and how we used to wear sweatpants every Thursday. You could tell by the expression on her face that Taylor was boiling with jealousy while my best friend and I were having a ball.
The three of us kind of became friends after that, if you could say that we needed someone to talk to about what happened the last three days Darcy had been with us. Since what happened, Taylor and I got close, sharing stories about Darcy and just venting out all of our tears and sorrows to each other.
I had been getting ready or the funeral the entire time I was thinking about that day. My dyed black hair had been pulled into a ponytail that was tied at the top of my head and I wore one of Darcy's old cheer bows that she loved to wear even when there wasn't a game on that day. Her mum let me borrow her letterman jacket to wear to the funeral, as well, because she said Darcy wouldn't want me to look like I was actually going to a funeral; to her funeral.
Just when I thought everything in the world was right again, Darcy's depression took the best of her. She wrote her mum a letter, her dad a letter, both of her brothers a letter, and finally, she wrote to Taylor and me. The letters had described her favorite memory with each individual person and why she wanted to kill herself; she couldn't handle the pressure of graduation, the anxiety of projects due, the ADHD that made her feel like she was always on psychotic drugs that she refused to take, the peer pressure, and the fact that she had depression since her father died in the third grade.
Tears spilled over my face, smudging my newly done mascara. Taylor tried her best to clean it off as I cried and just decided not to do my make-up, as well as her own. We cried the entire time getting ready together to see Darcy be dropped six feet under, where she would never see us again.
It all wasn't fair; not only was the world cruel on Darcy, but the world was cruel on us for taking her away. I almost didn't want to go to he funeral today because I didn't want to believe she was really dead. I had to wake up sooner or later and face the fact that she was really gone.
Maybe if I suffered the same fate as her, I could find her again. But even if I tried, Taylor would try to save me because she wouldn't want to go through the same thing all over again and go to two funerals within the same month. I couldn't leave my new friend like that, alone and broken, it would make me feel even worse and I knew deep down that Darcy wouldn't approve of my decisions.
The service was short, Darcy had always hated long speeches on things that nobody wanted to hear about; we didn't want to hear about her death. Her mother wrote a speech, and so did Taylor and I, but none of us could resd them by ourselves with outbursting into tears and wails; the serviceman had to read them for us.
"I hated myself for leaving all those years ago; when I found about what you did, I hated you for seeing me for only two days after three years." The preacher read from my eulogy, in a monotonic voice.
The next letter read was Taylor's, "You were so selfish for what you did to all of us here in this place right now, why did you abandon us so quickly?"
After hers was read, they read Darcy's mother's letter, "I didn't want to believe it at first, I just thought you were playing another trick so you wouldnt have to go to classes today. I should've listened to you when you pleaded me to not make you go; how could I be so blind?"
From beneath our vails of tears, Taylor and I grabbed onto each other's hands. We didn't want to let go, afraid one might want to hurt themselves just like Darcy. At least we had each other through this messed up and merciless world.
Taylor and I, with out our beloved Darcy, were to be know as the Lost Girls together.