She had long blonde hair, hourglass body, soft tan skin, and a perfectly structured face. Her scent filled the room with the aroma of Viva La Juicy. Every boy at school wanted to be with Adelisa Smith, and every girl wanted to look like her. She drove a new car, always had the newest phone, and her clothes were always expensive. That’s why everyone wondered what led her to her suicide.

Some girls you see their happiness through their eyes, but I never saw happiness in Adelisa’s eyes. I saw sad, empty blue eyes even when she smiled, and there wasn’t enough make up that could cover that. She was the cheerleader captain, a 4.0 student, a reliable person to her friends, and a loyal girlfriend to Mathew.
Adelisa and I were best friends since kindergarten; we met because back when her parents didn’t make as much money, she lived on my street. Every day after school we would play in my treehouse. In middle school she moved to a rich neighborhood and I never saw her again until freshman year at our town’s high school. I saw a change in her, she seemed materialistic, and more consumed by impressing people. We never talked at school, she acted as if she didn’t know me.

One night freshman year she unexpectedly called me saying, “Chandler I miss you, let’s study together I need help in math and you’re good at that, can I come over?”

Excited to reunite with my childhood best friend I said, “My house is a mess right now, but of course you can come over, I’ll be waiting.”

That night I saw a side of her no one at school saw of her. She was actually laughing for a while at dorky stuff and was telling me about all her problems. Adelisa would only see her parents a couple of times a week, because they were too busy working, and when she would see them they would tell her how bad of a child she is and call her worthless. Her perfect cheerleader-football player relationship people saw at school, he would cheat on her every weekend and she didn’t know how to let him go. He was the only one that would give her attention. Those stuck up girls that pretended to be her friends would talk about her behind her back. Though those people caused her pain, she wasn’t willing to let them go.

That night I held her as she cried, I heard her gasping for air while crying way too many times. Hearing someone I love cry hurt me as well. I reminded her that no matter how long we went without talking, I would always be there for her. As she was leaving she told me, “Don’t tell anyone I was here tonight because they’ll laugh at me, sorry and thank you.”

I didn’t think much of her problems because I thought it was normal for teenage girls to have a lot of problems. Although that night I laid in bed confused about why she didn’t want me to talk to her, I knew I wasn’t popular, but I didn’t think us being friends would be a problem. She made it clear she didn’t want to be seen with me when she would look down as we passed each other in the hallway. For the next couple of years she’d ignore my calls and texts. It was so noticeable how unhappy she was with the popular life she was living, she could fool others but not me.

The summer between Junior and senior year she reached out to me, desperate for help. She told me how Mathew began getting physically abusive with her. He became addicted to cocaine, making him crazier. That summer he began forcing her to do drugs with him. If she said she didn’t want to have sex, he would force her.
The weekend before school started he finally told her they were through, he found someone better. She came over that night and we sat in my tree house like we did 10 years prior to that. Except this time her bruises were from a boy she loved, and she wasn’t crying because she fell off the monkey bars.

Her tears were huge, her Maybelline mascara went down her face, and she sat in silence. In those perfectly shaped blue eyes of her, I saw a lost girl.  The girl who I saw in the hallway, who seemed to have it all together, had nothing.

Though he was the person who caused her the most pain, he was also the one who made her the happiest. Her parents showed her absolutely no affection. She felt as if the last person who cared about her dropped her, she was all alone. I don’t think it was that her parents didn’t love her, they thought showing love was buying her a new purse. I cared for her though, she didn’t realize it.

  After sitting in silence for about forty five minutes she told me, “I have no reason to live anymore, I’m just a burden to everyone.”

Furiously I told her, “Adelisa shut up! You know everyone has a reason for their existence, and life without you would be terrible, even if we don’t talk often.”

Her parents called her, they were mad because she wasn’t home when they arrived home. She left without saying a word, and I started wondering how long she’ll stay sad, hoping it wouldn’t be for long.
The next day at school I saw Matthew with his new girlfriend making out in front of everyone. I saw Adelisa walking around alone. I tried speaking to her, but she would give me short answers, in her voice I heard emptiness. She was wearing her hair up and no makeup, which was strange considering every day since freshman year she had curled hair and would look nice at school.

In my English class was the Cheer team, whom Adelisa considered her friends. I heard them talk about the break up. Most teenage girls get mad at the guy for hurting their friend, instead they were calling her a s***. Janice, Adelisa’s best friend, said, “Eww, Matthew said he broke up with her because she does lines and probably has STDs. I don’t know, but I think we should get her off the team and stop talking to her.”

The rest of the girls agreed, and they went through with it. The same week Adelisa lost the girls she tried to impress to be friends with for years, and the boy she loved for three years. The hardest thing for her must have been to be feeling upset, and on top of that she felt alone.

Adelisa began sitting with me during lunch. We would not talk though, we would sit in silence. I ate and she stared at her food. Sometimes her eyes would randomly get watery, and she would always get runny noses, I never knew what to tell her to feel better. It would hurt me to see her hurt.

One month after the breakup she changed immensely. She probably dropped twenty pounds in that month, she was already skinny, so she became extremely bony. Her mood swings were unpredictable. One day she was back to her old self pretending to be happy, and the next she was looking rough not wanting to talk to anyone. Her eyes were puffy and dark. When I’d ask her about her changes she would respond, “Oh I’m having a lot of sleeping problems, and am trying to cut weight, but I’ll be fine.”

I believed her, and reminded her that it was bad for her health. I believed her because lack of sleep is common amongst teenagers.

One Friday after school she gave me a ride home in her 2014 Chevy Camaro. It smelled like skunk, but then I realized it was marijuana. I saw a sack of cocaine in there to. I asked her “Adelisa are you using drugs? Please tell me you’re not, it’s not too late to fix it.”
She looked at me furiously and said, “Mind your own business, I just need it right now to stop thinking about stuff, I’ll be fine. DON’T TELL ANYONE!”

All her changes and bloody noses made sense now; in my health class they thought me the symptoms of people abusing drugs. My best friend was drowning in bad habits. I wanted to rescue her but I extended my hand and she wouldn’t reach for it.

The next week at school she didn’t sit with me at lunch anymore, and she never responded to my texts. I would try talking to her in the hallways and she would ignore me as if she didn’t hear anything. She began sitting with the people who partied every weekend, or as some people would refer to them, the “stoners.”
Living in the small town of Watsonville, California, everyone finds out everything. I slowly began hearing so many rumors of her partying every weekend. At those parties she would get extremely drunk, and would be doing drugs. People also would say she had no self-respect because she would make out with random guys at those parties.

I didn’t want to believe these things because I thought I knew my best friend was better than that. After homecoming I went to a party with my friends, and to my surprise, I saw her there. She was sitting on a couch in the shortest, high waisted shorts and a see through crop top. With her was a 20 year old guy she just met, a bottle of vodka in one hand, and a blunt in the other. I saw her so out of it that getting taken advantage of and I pulled her to me and told her, “ Adelisa, I’m taking you home right now, you are too out of it to be in public, and I feel like this guy is no good, come on!”

She mumbled, “Chanduhler, you need to chiiill ou out, I am he here with my new frands leave alreadydy. I don’t know wow why you care? It’s none of your businesses.”

Everyone at the party turned and stared at me. I got furious hearing her asking her why I would care, when I was the one that held her while she cried. Her new friends weren’t friends, they were people who would hang out with her on weekends. Her words really hurt me; I got up and left the party.

When Monday came around I heard many stories about her at school. From what I heard Adelisa stayed at that party until five in the morning and drove home drunk and high. She had sex with the guy she met that night at the party, people would walk in and record with their phones, and she wouldn’t notice because she was too out of it. It sickened me to know that a guy would do stuff with a girl knowing she was in no place to give consent, but that was her problem, I was done with trying to help her.

Adelisa looked sad at school, but I chose to pretend as if she wasn’t there. I always saw her alone in the hallway, but I would ignore her if she tried coming up to me and talk. When she would go sit with me at lunch, I would get up and leave her there.

Every Monday I heard stories of her, as if she never learned her lesson, she would go act up every weekend. I knew she felt guilty, but she continued her reckless behavior, which I never understood. Her reckless behavior only lasted about a month.

The third of November was a cold Friday night. I chose to stay in because it was too cold to be at the football game. I heard a knock at my door and I went to open it, but no one was there. I looked down and there was a brown box with a note attached to it.

The note said “Hey Chandler, I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I’m cleaning out my storage and found some things from our childhood. I have nowhere to put them at, and thought you might want them. I want to thank you for all the times you listened to my problems, and for always caring for me. Thank you for all the time you played with me when we were kids. I also want to apologize for my selfish behavior and for not appreciating everything you’ve done for me. I understand why you wouldn’t want to talk to me again. Remember you will always hold a special place in my heart. Love, Adelisa Smith.”

The card felt like it was a goodbye letter. I thought that she finally realized I didn’t want to be friends anymore. Of course I forgave her, but I couldn’t be friends with her anymore she was to toxic. I couldn’t waste my time on her knowing she wouldn’t take my advice.

Inside the box were photos of our soccer team, and photos our moms took at our birthday parties. There were pictures we drew that I didn’t even remember we had drawn. The best thing in there was my favorite action figure I gave her before she moved away when we were kids, I couldn’t believe she kept it.

Seeing those things I realized I couldn’t be mad at her, we had too much of a history to give it up with my pride. I had to stick with her through the hard times. I called her phone about ten times and she didn’t pick up. I assumed she was busy, so I sent her a text message saying “Adelisa we need to talk. Please call me when you read this.”

Adelisa was always on her phone, the fact that she didn’t call back was strange. I went to sleep after hours of waiting on her calls. I assumed she was probably at a party since it was a Friday night.

Saturday mornings I always wake up to the smell of my mother’s cooking and her loud music. This Saturday morning it was different, she was sitting on the couch and I could tell she had been crying. Worried I asked her, “Mom what happened? What’s wrong?”
My mother quietly said “Adelisa is gone.”
Confused I asked “Where did she go?”
My mother looked down and said “Baby, She committed suicide. She wrote her parents a note. The doctors believe she overdosed on pills last night.”

I felt my heart drop. I stood there speechless, waiting to be woken up from a dream. I didn’t even know how to react, I’ve never lost anyone close to me. After about thirty seconds I felt tears rolling down my face. I don’t like to show emotions, but there tears were out of my control.

I walked upstairs and got the letter she wrote me and went to the tree house that held so many memories of us. I reread the letter about fifty times. Then it all came to me, it was actually her way of saying goodbye. I felt so guilty for not figuring out that the letter was her way of saying goodbye. Maybe if I would have realized it I could have stopped her.

The next day at school I saw so much hypocrisy. All the people who talked down on Adelisa were crying. They were wondering what led her to that, she had it all.

I left school early because I felt frustrated seeing people who hurt her so much caring now that it’s too late. When I got home I saw Adelisa’s parents sitting on our couch and they handed me a folded piece of college ruled paper. They handed me the paper and it said, “Please give this to Chandler when you find this. Chandler I’m sorry for what I did, but I couldn’t tolerate the pain and emptiness. I want you to know no matter what you did, there was no way you could have stopped this from happening. Please remember the good times we shared. Love, Adelisa Smith.”

I’m sure she wrote that letter to help me feel at peace with myself. It did not work though, I still feel as if I would have known I could have stopped her. What hurts the most is knowing that in her last days alive I ignored her. The last argument was not worth it, because now that she’s gone, it’s too late and it means nothing.”