He was a friend. A friend I could never forget. He was someone I could talk to and share my thoughts with. He was the only one who I was able to sit with and smoke a cigarette with. He was my only friend, until "the day". The day everything went wrong.
It was Friday and we were off to the gas station to go buy more cigarettes. Wait. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Savanna. But Anna for short. We got to the gas station and he was standing there laughing. "I BEAT YOU AGAIN ANN! When are you ever gonna win?!" When I reached him, he hugged me. This was the kind of weird friendship we had. I also forgot, his name is Tom. We went inside and we would usually meet the cashier who was always there, Mr. Ronald.
"Why are you kids always buying these deadly killers. Have some Sour Patches instead," he said handing us a box of Marlboro cigs. He was a nice old man, in his 60's. He always cared about us. He didn't want us to be smoking, but it was his job to sell us what we wanted. And smoking was what we wanted and what we enjoyed. "I want you to grow old like me." He smiled as we were leaving.
"WE'll TRY MR. RONALD!" Tom yelled back from outside.
