Was it my fault?                       

When I turned sixteen, my best friend died. Something in my gut tells me that I’m responsible but I never knew for sure. Josh was his name and he was a good friend too. We have known each other since we were two. The day before my birthday we hung out doing our normal thing. Playing video games until my parent went to sleep, then we would sneak out and meet up with people to get drunk. Josh was older than me so he already had his license. But this night was different than our normal nights, he was different. Once we knew that my parent fell asleep I said to him, “Hey man, lets go get drunk”.

“Not tonight”, he said.

“Why not it will be fun”.

“I just don’t want to, end of discussion.”

After the conversation I wondered if everything was okay, but I didn't want to ask because we are guys we don't really have heart to hearts like girls. Eventually he agreed to go out but something was still wrong. Josh took us to a different spot than usual and there were different people there. I didn't think much of it because we were out having fun and I trusted Josh. Hours have passed and we are plastered with alcohol and having a great time.

I woke up the next morning with a major headache. I realize that I am laying on dirt ground and not in my bed, I am still at the same place we were at last night. I got up and no one was around, then I see Josh laying down behind the bushes.

“Hey man, we better get going. My parents are going to flip”.

No response.

“Dude, wake up, we need to go”.

He hasnt even moved, so I walk towards him. I walk around the bush and I see a gunshot in his left shoulder and another one just below that, right around his heart. Josh is dead and I don’t know how it happened. I look around to see if I can go anywhere to tell somebody but we are in the middle of nowhere. I reach for my phone and call 911.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“My friend is dead!”

“Okay sir calm down. Where are you?”

“I have no idea all I see is a long dirt road with nothing around it.”

“Okay stay on the line so we can track your phone. What happened?”

“I don't know, we were all drunk. The other guys that were here left and I have no idea who they were, only my friend Josh.”

“Okay, what is your name?”

“Mike”.

“Okay Mike you need to stay calm, police are on there way to get you.”

After ending the conversation with 911 operator, I didn't know what to do with myself. I checked to see if Josh still had the keys to his car, they were no where to be found. The guys that were here left us for dead. The police came an hour later and were asking me a million questions. “What happened?”, “Where did the others go?”, “How did you get here?”. I could only answer a quarter of them because I had no idea what happened.
We headed back to the police station where they asked me more questions of what happened and I still had no clue of what happened. My mom came and picked me up from the station. She asked me a million questions as well but I told her the same thing as I did the police. She grounded me for two months. Years have gone by and they still haven't figured out who killed Josh. To this day I try to replay that night but nothing new comes up. I ask myself all the time if it was my fault that Josh was dead, because I pressured him to go out. I will never know the answer and I will still have a pit in my stomach for it. I miss Josh and he is never coming back. I gave up everything reckless for Josh. All the alcohol and drugs are done for. I just wish Josh lived another day.