Hello.

My name is Cameron,

And I want to talk about my friend Gregory.

I met Gregory when he moved to my school from across the country. I was pretty popular, in fact I was Student Body President, which is practically just a popularity contest. He was shy, kind of awkward, and we didn't have any classes together so I didn't talk to him for a while. It wasn't until the second semester in history that I officially met him. The teacher assigned us a project and picked the groups, it was only Gregory and me. I introduced myself.

"Sup" I said. His gaze not only didn't shift, but he also didn't reply.

"Um, what do you want to do for the project?" His body winced, as if my very comment caused him physical pain. I did, however, see him glance in my direction.

"I don't know", he paused, "you can ask to switch partners with someone else, if you want."  His voice faltered halfway through his sentence, causing his head to stoop lower and his posture to weaken.

"Nah, I want to work with you, man" .

For the rest of the class block, we decided and planned our project around the slavery issue in present-day India. The next couple of days, we developed a friendship. We were complete opposites of each other, but somehow we bonded over our differences. What was even greater is that he started to come to places with me like to parties and the bowling alley.

It wasn't all perfect though. People would pull me aside and say things about him.

"Cameron, why are you hanging out with him?"

"Cause I want to" I'll say.

"If a teacher asked you to be his friend, that doesn't mean you have to invite him to stuff." Another will complain.

"A teacher didn't ask me anything. I think he's cool." I would respond.

Sometimes he'll ask if we can leave early cause he doesn't feel like he fits in or because someone will say something rude to him.

Those days I drove Gregory to my house. My parents were usually asleep by then so we'd sneak in and sleep in my bed. That's when I learned the most about him. His father and younger brother died in a car crash when he was young. His mom struggles to keep food on the table for the both of them. He suffers from depression, anxiety, insecurity, and minor anorexia. The list goes on, but I stopped him as he started to cry. I didn't know what to do, so I ended up hugging him. Every sniffle was heartbreaking, but as minutes turned to an hour they decreased in volume. We laid there for a while, then finally silence filled the room. It wasn't until a few minutes later that I realized he had fallen asleep on top of me.

As time went on, we only became closer, our bond only strengthening from others continued disapproval. I decided a long time ago that some people aren't worth pleasing, that they'll tell you who to be and how to act. But playing by someone else's rules was never fun in the first place. Gregory was my friend and no one was going to tell me differently.

April 19th is the most important day of my life. I had a English project that required book sources for our essay and I asked Gregory if he wanted to come to the library  with me. As per usual, he said yes and we walked there. Once inside the library, we searched for books about Helen Keller. After finding a good selection, we sat down and read two of them. Gregory helped me develop my paper and make it free of grammatical errors. Then, it happened.

Books fell to the floor with loud impacts and people screamed in terror as the world shook with ferocity. Gregory and I ducked under the table as you do in an earthquake. I looked at him and could see the fear in his eyes, his body began to shake involuntarily as the building started collapsing. I held on to him as a fissure opened underneath us, swallowing us both in a narrow crater. The library completely crumbled and a large slab of concrete prevented us from being crushed, but also blocked us from the outside.

I looked at Gregory, his body convulsing and shaking from anxiety. The chasm was so narrow that he was sitting on my lap. I finally grasped what was happening 20 seconds in, he was having a seizure. I grabbed onto his head, arms, and legs, in the hope to end his intense shaking. After what felt like hours, but in reality was a few short minutes, he stopped and became coherent as tears ran down his face.

"What are we gonna do?" His voice squeaked out.

"I don't know". I admitted.

For the next few hours, we screamed for help, but to no avail. The hours trailed onto days and still no one came. For most of the hours, he stared at my face, as if he was studying it. After the first day, he showed no emotion, almost like he had already accepted his fate. He'd lay his head on my chest and fall asleep just like he had done months ago.

On day 3, Gregory's breaths became shaky and irregular as a result of  dehydration. He struggled to keep his head up and his head span. I cradled him as his eyes began to close.

"I'm not gonna make it" he whispered in between breaths, his voice just as petite and quiet as the first day we met.

"I'm getting you out of this" I reassured him with confidence.

"I feel it, Cameron. I can't fight it any longer," He rubbed his head in pain from the migraine that was attacking him.

"Stay alive," I told him. Gregory took one deep breath.

Then, his body went completely limp.

"No!" I screamed, I refused. This wasn't happening. This is a dream, an illusion, a facade. It can't end like this. Think Cam, think! Mindlessly, I pushed Gregory off to the side and began yelling at the cement confining us. 5, 10,15 minutes later. No answer came. I sank down deeper in the hole as tears began pouring down my face. I failed, I thought, looking over at Gregory whose body was still.

Suddenly, dust rained down from above, causing me to cough. Staring down at us was a construction worker of some sorts.

"Call an ambulance" I pleaded. He turned and called out to someone. He reached his hand out and my first concern was Gregory, who I then picked up and guided his arm to the worker's hand. He grabbed him and pulled him up and next was my turn. My body ached as I used both the last of my own strength as well as the man's to pull myself to freedom. I did it, my mind thought. The next few moments became a blur to getting in the ambulance with Gregory and driving to the hospital. Once in the clinic, I remember vividly jogging next to the gurney to keep up.

"Can I see him?" I asked the nurse, but she seemed concerned with the doctors. Right before entering the door, she turned to me.

"You can watch from the viewing window." She said impatiently as she closed the door behind her. I pressed myself against the window as they plugged him into machines of different calibers and functions. They pulled up another contraption I had recognized from movies.

"Clear".

His chest was compressed by the defibrillator. No response.

"Clear".

My face fell, my body along with it. I couldn't watch anymore. I turned around, not able to believe the horrors happening behind me.

"Clear".

My knees became weak and I sank lower against the wall.

"Clear"

The floor was hard and cold, much like Gregory's still heart. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"Clear"

The world disappeared. Everything around me melted away, leaving me by myself. Nothing around mattered anymore, All hope was lost, but there was no hope in the first place.

"Clear"

The next few weeks blended together into a haze of sorrow and grief. The funeral was a small gathering, made up of me, his mother, and the priest. When it was over and everyone had left, I stayed for a while and just talked to the closed brown casket. I talked about feelings, our friendship, whatever came to mind I said.

Next week, I graduate college with a major in Psychology. I want to be able to help people who are in the same position that he was in.

Maya Angelou once said people may forget what you did or what you said, but they'll never forget how they made you feel. So maybe I've forgotten the shirt he wore one day or what his favorite song was.

But I will never forget my friend.

My friend Gregory