My best friend's name is Jessica. For four years, we were inseparable. From the time I got out of school until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, I was with her. Our friendship consisted of Culver's cheese curds, midnight drives in her beat-up Impala, and dressing up her dogs in sweaters. We could sit at her house without a cell phone, car, or computer and have the time of our lives. We had one of those friendships where you know you're going to be friends forever.

Jessica and I met years ago through mutual friends. There was an instant connection, and from that day on we were mistaken for sisters daily. Our matching blonde hair, nose piercings, and Valley Girl accents gave off the vibe that we were related.

We were both teens looking for trouble. And we found it. We got caught up with the law and were sent to the same drug rehabilitation center, but even then, we found hope and trust in each other.

In early 2009, Jessica and I made the biggest mistake of our lives. We relapsed and got hooked on cocaine. Our addictions escalated , and soon we were spending $800 a week on coke. I had lost a huge amount of weight and all the color in my face. I knew this was going to kill me, but I couldn't manage to care.

Later that year, Jessica tried heroin and was ­instantly addicted. Within a few weeks, the veins in her arms were collapsed and she had lesions all over her hands.

The night of July 20, 2009, I sat down with Jessica, and we had a serious talk. We acknowledged that what we were doing was a huge mistake.

“I want to be sober again,” she said.

We came up with a plan. We were going to get rid of all the bad influences in our lives, we were going to get clean, we were going to start over, we were going to be truly happy. For the next few hours, we talked about what our new lives would be like. That night was one of the best I had had in a long time. We again were just normal girls, doing normal things. We took pictures on her webcam, ate popcorn, and watched movies.

But sooner than later, I had to go home. On our way home, we stopped at Walmart to buy best friend bracelets. We were accused of stealing and were taken into the back room. When the ­security guards realized they were wrong, they released us. My dad picked me up and I said good-bye to Jess.

That was the last time I saw her alive.

Jessica went home and couldn't resist the urge. She injected heroin and cocaine. She had a seizure in her sleep and took her last breath on July 21, 2009. That day I stood outside after summer school for hours waiting for her to pick me up. She never came.

Looking down at my best friend's body in that casket was the most eye-opening experience of my life. I could still see the wounds from needles in her arms. She was wearing our friendship bracelets – one from just a few days earlier and one from years ago.

I have not touched drugs since Jessica passed away. I have no idea what I would be like today if she were still here, but I don't think I would be as sober as I am now. The loss of her life was a new beginning in mine.

My heart still aches for her. I love and miss my best friend more than words can say.