why I knew there had to be some mistake, my mom had to be wrong. My mom then went on to tell me the details of what happened, but it did not matter, I did not hear her. Even though I was exhausted after a long day, my mom drove me to my friends house. I still had not cried, we just sat in the car in silence. I knew there had to be a mistake. However, as soon as I saw the tear stained face of my friend, I knew everything was true. That is when the tears came, and Im not quite sure when they stopped. They lasted for hours on end.The days that followed that day are still a little blurry. I did not go to school; but then again most people did not. Most of Megans friends got together to make a cross and collages of pictures; however, I could not bring myself to get off the couch. Everyone was nice enough to include me in everything. They put my name on the cross and put tons of pictures of Megan and me in the collages. My phone rang off the hook with people checking to make sure I was OK. Our old soccer coach even flew in from Georgia to help us deal with everything. As the funeral neared, I was suffering from many mixed emotions. I could not figure out whether to be upset or angry, or what to feel at all. Not only did I have to deal with the loss of a friend, but also I had to deal with the fact that she did it herself. Then came the subject of her parents. I wanted to blame everything on them. It made everything so easy; who else could be blamed? Maybe if they had cared just a little bit more, this all could have been prevented. I just did not know what to think. Then came the funeral.The day of the wake, I was totally convinced that I did not need to go. If I never had to see any of our friends ever again, then I simply would not have to deal with everything. My mom and dad did convince me to go, and I am so glad they did. As soon as I took one look at Megans parents I quickly realized that they could not have car...
